To Heal
by SeverAllTies
Summary: Harry Potter looked dead. He was mute. Did Dumbledore's plan of placing Harry with the Dursley's somehow go wrong? Will he ever learn To Heal? AU Year 1 in process.
1. The Sorting

AN – Wrote this while planning out the sequel to Change For Good which I'm writing the first chapter of soon. I may post this story as well, just keep it up there on my account so I can write it when I have time, Change for Good sequel – Twist of Fate – will have top priority and I've planned out quite a few chapters already. Hope you like!

**To Heal**

**Harry Potter looked dead. He was emotionless; seemed soulless. He was mute. Walked and obeyed commands like an Inferius. Did Dumbledore's plan of placing Harry with the Dursley's somehow go wrong?**

**Chapter 1 – The Sorting**

"Potter, Harry!" Professor McGonagall called.

Immediately whispers sprung through the hall, excited, students standing and leaning over the table to get a look at the legendary Harry Potter. He was not what they expected.

He was pale; cheeks hollow with unblinking emerald eyes and black hair that hung limply to his shoulders. His robes were large on his tiny frame; two bone white hands peeked out of his sleeves, veins showing easily through his almost translucent skin.

Most of the first years had looked nervous when they approached and sat down on the stool, shifting every now and then.

Harry Potter showed no emotion.

Harry Potter didn't move.

Both teachers and students alike waited with great anticipation, giggling with excited smiles and whispering, but as the silence drew on and Harry didn't move and the Sorting Hat didn't speak, they frowned and grew confused.

"What's taking him so long?"

"What do you think they're talking about?"

"I wonder what house he'll be sorted into."

They talked as if he was not there, but he could hear them, as loud as if they were talking into his ear…

The sorting hat sighed into Harry's mind. _"Mr Potter, I cannot sort you if you don't communicate with me, let me in, let me see what you are like!"_

Harry didn't reply for a moment before his thoughts became readable for the dirty hat.

"_I am worthless. I am a freak. I shall not contaminate Dudley. I shall do as I am told." _

It was like a continuous loop in Harry's head; overlapping and completely sickening to the sorting hat as it watched snippets of memories fly by in Harry's mind. The boy was intelligent, marvellously so, but so damaged in both mind and body that it wondered whether Harry would ever be 'normal', well, as normal as a child like he could ever be.

The memories seemed unstoppable, like a torrent they came. Insults and smacks over the head with frying pans from a blonde, horse-faced woman, a rough shove from a chubby boy, eyes glinting with malicious enjoyment as the boy watched Harry slip and smack his head on the side of the kitchen worktop. Harry had been shouted at for bleeding over the kitchen floor. Each memory was similar in the way that Harry was neglected, and his guardians showed obvious favouritism to their own child.

Harry was denied food for days at a time; locked in his cupboard without a wash, light or warm enough clothes. He did chores inside the house, but was never allowed out, this showing in his very pale skin. And then the worst memory of Harry's life that left him with an incurable fear. How he became a mute.

It was a warm day and Petunia had ordered him to clean the house from top to bottom. He did, but received nothing but a slice of bread for his trouble. Well, it was more than he had been getting lately. Harry cooked lunch and finished serving just as Aunt Marge entered wrapping her fat arms around Dudley and kissing him with adoring pecks all over his sagging face. While Dudley's angry protests went unnoticed by his aunt as she continued to kiss him, his uncle was hauling her suitcase up the stairs and his aunt was hovering around the pair unsure whether to pry Dudley from Marge's massive arms, Ripper slipped through his collar and found his next target.

Harry.

The bulldog charged towards Harry, snarling, practically foaming at the mouth as Harry ran as fast as he could away from the dog, through the back door and up a tree. Ripper's front paws scratched at the But he wasn't strong enough to hold on. The branch he had gripped slipped from his hands and he fell to the floor. Ripper was on him in an instant and started to bite into Harry's throat. He knew he was going to die. His relatives would probably breathe a sigh of relief and he would never have to look into their angry faces ever again.

Harry blocked out the pain, ready to die, but his magic wouldn't give up that easily. It was one of his most powerful bursts of accidental magic that managed to throw the dog from him and stem the blood pouring out of his neck. Harry's small hands pressed at his throat, shocked that the dog was gone, his eyes searching wildly for his saviour, but he could see no one. His magic was strong, but due to the years of neglect it wasn't as strong as it should have been and it couldn't completely stop the blood flow or heal the damage done. Harry's vision blackened and blurred at the edges, feeling lightheaded, the last bit of hope he harboured that someone would care enough and come and try to help, withered and died.

If Harry had held onto consciousness for just a moment longer he would have seen the panic that engulfed Number 4 Privet Drive.

Petunia had screamed loud enough to rouse even deaf Mr Wilkins two streets down; Dudley had exclaimed 'cool' but blanched when he saw all the blood, Vernon turned purple and white repeatedly in quick succession while Marge fussed over Ripper who was whining pitifully with several broken bones on the floor underneath the kitchen window, a sizeable crack in the bricks behind him. It was only due to the nosiness of the next door neighbour and her quick reactions that the ambulance arrived at all.

The next time he woke, he was in hospital and a sad doctor and sympathetic nurse all explained to him that he wouldn't be able to speak again. Apparently Harry had endured several highly dangerous operations to reconstruct his throat and put a skin graft over his neck where Ripper had bitten him. It hurt to breathe and swallow. As he lay in the hospital bed, sore and tired Harry could feel his weak magic, welling up and trying to heal his throat. It was slow going but the doctors were impressed with his progress clearly believing that he was recovering quickly like most children do.

When he was well enough Harry had to see another doctor who asked him to do various exercises, try to speak or make any noise at all. Harry couldn't. They taught him sign language, but he never tried to communicate. He stayed silent, and hasn't spoken since.

The sorting hat was appalled. "Mr _Potter, I am…terribly sorry, if there is anything I can do—" _

"Nothing. I am a freak and shall remain thus. It is what I deserve."

The sorting hat had seen accounts of abuse and neglect when he sorted the students and although he left hints for the headmasters and headmistresses it was very rare that they picked up on them, or that anything would be done. Of course he could not declare that the child was being abused outright, it went against the magic instilled in him by the Founders. They had believed the mind was sacred and only upon acceptance to be sorted should the hat have access to it, even afterwards secrets could not be spilt unless given permission by the wearer. That was even rarer.

"I am at a loss Mr Potter as to where you should be sorted, could you help me chose?"

"No. I haven't a right to make choices. They told me I don't deserve them."

The hat was saddened and infuriated all at the same time. Harry had never stood up to his relatives, he was incredibly smart but intentionally did poorly so Dudley would seem more intelligent. Harry had never been loyal and didn't know what it felt like. Slytherin seemed to be the best fit. The boy took all his punishments without batting an eyelid so he wouldn't have to face more, he had a strong sense of self-preservation and knew just what to say and do to keep out of harms way – although even if he did something right at Privet Drive, it was likely that he would be punished for it anyway. In Slytherin he would be able to learn, heal, to accept himself. Hopefully.

The students and staff all watched Mr Potter restlessly as he conversed with the hat in his mind. They were confused, worried. What was taking him so long? But none were more worried than Albus Dumbledore. He had looked at the boy, noticed his ragged skeletal appearance and seemingly emotionless approach to the sorting hat. He had been on the stool for almost ten minutes now. It was the longest recorded sorting in Hogwarts History.

As time dragged on the teachers and students looked to him, several stomachs growling loudly at having to wait for so long.

The headmaster stood and walked through the table as though it was nothing more than an illusion so he stood beside Harry. He was about to reach for the hat when it shifted and yelled it's decision.

"SLYTHERIN!"

At first there was silence, and then, everyone started talking at once.


	2. Welcome to Slytherin

AN – Chapter two hope you like!

Change for Good sequel – Twist of Fate – will have top priority and I've planned out quite a few chapters already, the new chapter for that and Missing Magic will be up by the end of this half term (even though I really should be doing work!) I'm a slave to fanfic guys!

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**Chapter 2 – Welcome to Slytherin**

Harry removed the Sorting Hat, left it on the chair and walked mechanically towards the Slytherin table where he sat with the other first years. They all looked at him with curiosity but conversation was put off until the sorting was finished. The Slytherins' politely clapped for the other students that were sorted, some jeering quietly to their neighbours when someone called Weasley was sorted. Harry remained quiet, observing those around him. He immediately recognised those with the most power amongst his peers.

Seated across the table from him was a blonde haired boy with a pale, pointed face and a proud set to his shoulders; he was flanked by two large stony faced boys, that Harry assumed were the 'muscle'. Although from first impressions that was all they were. A dark skinned boy almost as quiet as he was to his right, and a girl with a pinched pouting face that seemed to be pointed firmly in the direction of the blonde boy opposite him, to his left.

As soon as the Headmaster had stood and said his piece, food appeared on the table on gold plates and pitchers of (what Harry was told was pumpkin juice) were spread across the table. It was more food than Harry had ever seen in his life.

"So, Potter, never thought you'd be in Slytherin, although, it really is the best house. I'm Draco Malfoy." He held out his hand for Harry to shake and Harry took it, his hand was freezing cold compared to Draco's and the blond boy removed his hand as soon as was polite. "I'll introduce you" he said when Harry didn't say anything further. "This is Crabbe, and Goyle," he pointed to each of the bulky boys in turn before gesturing to the other first years, "Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Millicent Bullstrode, Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass." As their names were said hands were offered and shook, those around him ate and chattered about their summers, the new robes they'd bought, Quidditch (whatever that was) or how they'd endured the last ball they'd attended.

"You're very quiet, aren't you Potter?" Nott said, leaning over to get a look at Harry. "It's your turn. What was your summer like?"

Harry nodded and ignored the second question, turning back to look at Draco who was going on about the Abraxans, giant winged horses, that his family owned. From the corner of his eye he saw Nott's eyes flash quickly with dislike before it was gone again. Harry paid him no mind, continuing to listen to Malfoy's arrogant chatter. As if he would tell them what his summer was like – even if he could talk. No doubt they'd laugh at him. Their treatment was so above his own if their words were anything to go by. He wondered how different he was from them really. Apparently he had magic too, but that was probably the only similarity between them.

Harry could tell they were all well off, perhaps they were like Dudley? He shuddered mentally at the thought. Back in Surrey, he had a few ragged hand-me-downs, a few broken toys and slept in the smallest bedroom amongst Dudley's junk. He was sure that these children didn't have to do chores or cook all the meals. At least here there were no Dursleys. That at least made it easier to breathe. He might even like it here. All he had to do was keep his head down and study hard, give them no reason to punish him, and he'd be able to cope.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Daphne Greengrass questioned him, looking from him to his empty plate with a raised blonde eyebrow.

Harry just shook his head, although to be honest, he really didn't think any of the food was for him. He'd look like an idiot if he started eating now after waiting for so long. He'd thought it some sort of test, that if he ate something he'd be punished like he was at Privet Drive. When he'd done something wrong they'd send him to his room, and Dudley would sit outside his door eating his dinner, describing how delicious the food was and how much he was enjoying it. The scent wafting under his door always sent pangs of hunger straight to his empty stomach.

"At Hogwarts you have to serve yourself, Potter." Zabini drawled.

"No matter how you've been treated at home," Nott sneered.

Harry disliked the condescending tone in Nott's voice so slowly turned his head to the boy and stared unblinkingly at him until he looked away. _Point one to me_, he thought.

"It's good," Draco said breaking the tension and drawing Harry's attention back to him. "Eat something now or you'll have to wait until breakfast." He made a little flick of his fingers and Harry found Parkinson suddenly filling his plate with all sorts of food. Malfoy was the leader then.

Cautiously Harry used his knife and fork to cut a slice of beef into sections and pop a piece into his mouth. Flavour exploded on his tongue and his eyes widened in surprise. He'd never tasted _anything_ so delicious in his life.

"See," Draco said smugly, seeing the brief flash of genuine surprise on Harry's otherwise emotionless face.

Harry did 'see' and had to slow his eating to a more respectful rate when those around him shot disgusted looks his way. Eventually the savoury foods disappeared, to be replaced with towering platters of jelly, ice cream in every flavour, chocolate, strawberry and orange sauce; treacle tarts and cakes and little mint candies in bowls. He couldn't help but be impressed. Pansy took it upon herself to serve him desert too which he savoured with concealed delight, nodding at her in thanks for her help.

When the feast was over and the food disappeared Harry had never felt so full in his life! There was a pink cast to his pale cheeks and his stomach was warm with the meal he'd eaten. Headmaster Dumbledore stood with a twinkle in his eye looking more jovial than anyone Harry had ever met as he stared out over the full and sleepy students. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Gryffindor table.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry remained silent, only a few laughed, the Slytherins shared thoughtful looks.

Malfoy scoffed quietly under his breath, "Father always said he was mad."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. "Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

Harry looked around the hall, face straight and expressionless as always not even attempting to mouth the words as the rest of the students sang the rather odd song.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best

We'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

Everyone sang the song at different times and at last, only two boys were left, twins by the look of them, singing along to a slow funeral march. Dumbledore directed their last few lines with his wand and when he had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Slytherin first years stood and were directed by the seventh year prefects out of the Great Hall and towards the dungeons, the air getting colder as they went further and further down. Eventually they reached a stretch of unmarked stone wall.

"See here," the prefect pointed to a small indentation in the corner of a large stone, shaped like a 'S', it was about five large stones from the floor. "This is how you identify where our common room is. The password is Pride." There was a heavy clunk and a door concealed in the wall slid open. The prefect went through first, leading them into the common room.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

"This is where you will relax and complete your homework. The boys dormitories are to the right," the stairs leading upwards closest the door, "while the girls are to the left" the prefect pointed to the stairs against the furthest wall which held a large glass porthole revealing the murky water of the Black Lake. The prefect looked them all over and spoke sternly. "And remember, what happens in Slytherin House, stays in Slytherin House."

As he finished a new voice spoke up. "I'll take it from here Mason."

The first years turned to see Professor Severus Snape, head of Slytherin House, standing behind them.

Professor Snape was tall and had a commanding presence that made all the first years before him sit up and listen. Wrapped in thick black robes with lots and lots of buttons, he had thin greasy hair that hung limply around his sallow face. He had black eyes that made Harry think of dark tunnels, a large hooked nose and thin lips that pulled up in a smirk revealing crooked yellow teeth. "Now you know where you will be living for the next seven years I will set down a few rules. Outside of this common room, you must form a united front. Inside Slytherin House you may return to your friendship groups and arguments but do not duel unless an older student has agreed to supervise it, I do not want to find any of my new students in the hospital wing or knocking on my door for broken bones and boils." He looked over them sternly and the first years all nodded.

He seemed satisfied with their response and continued. "The other houses do not look kindly upon Slytherin students of any age, first years are always targets for older students from other houses such as Gryffindor. If you have a confrontation with a student from another house it is likely you will get the blame first, unless you have witnesses, or you can contact me first so it is best to stay in groups." His voice was deep and smooth as he spoke seriously to his students. What he said next made a lot of sense to Harry and he felt slightly better in being placed in Slytherin House, even if many others did not. "If you do break the rules or wish to get revenge on another student _do not get caught_."Malfoy was smirking to himself on Harry's right. It seemed the boy had some respect for Professor Snape and Harry wondered whether he'd known him before this welcome speech Professor Snape was giving now.

"If you ever need anything, you may come to me, my office is just down the hall and open all hours to my Slytherins if your concerns are urgent. If your questions are not urgent, I have office hours which are posted on the message board." He pointed to the black chalk board with white spidery writing spread over the surface. "They are during lunch, the hour before dinner and hours afterwards until half past seven. Curfew for first and second years is eight o'clock. You must be in your common rooms by this time otherwise you may be caught by prefects or Professors who are patrolling and lose points for Slytherin. If you are caught continuously you may lose points or receive detention. I doubt I need to inform you that detentions and loss of points is not looked upon with approval. As you settle in you will become used to the dynamics of Slytherin, I prefer practical application and finding information out for yourselves rather than spoon feeding you information like many others." Professor Snape gave them all a positively evil looking smirk, "Welcome to Slytherin."


	3. Cause For Concern

**AN – Oh MERLIN! This is such a long chapter, I hope you like! There's a lot of stuff in here. I've been a bit stressed with college recently so this is the product of how I relax. All 7,000+ words of it haha.**

**Deviantart - AspiringAuthor20**

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**Chapter 3 – Cause for Concern**

"Potter you can share a room with me." Malfoy said taking Harry by the sleeve of his robe and pulling him along to an unmarked door. Malfoy examined it for a minute before making a pleased 'aha!' He placed his hand on the wood and Harry copied his actions, watching as a silver plaque appeared with their names on it.

_Draco Lucius Malfoy_

_Harry James Potter_

As Malfoy opened the door and stepped through, he explained that the doors that were unmarked had no occupants and those that did have occupants had the names of those sleeping there on silver plaques fastened to the door like their own. "I chose this because it was where my father stayed when he first came to Hogwarts." He said proudly. "He marked the door before he left so I could find it when it was my time to attend if it was available. There's a private bathroom which is why he wanted me to have it. Much better than sharing the public baths with the first year boys from the other houses. Some are a bit common and plus, we don't know where they've been do we?" he smirked.

The room was rectangular in shape with three beds along the left wall and three wardrobes along the right. Between the two, flanked by large glass lamps that cast an eerie green glow over the room, was another door which led to the bathroom. Harry followed Malfoy through. "It's not as big as the common bathroom, but it's more private and much better for us." Harry thought it was fantastic. The floor was smooth black marble with steps down into a deep curved tub that was carved out of the floor and the size of a swimming pool. Harry wondered what the common bathroom looked like if this was small. When they went back to their room two trunks were sitting in the middle of the room, one a standard red leather coated trunk which was Harry's, and a black trunk with silver fastenings that was Malfoy's. "I'll take this bed." Malfoy said dragging his trunk over to the middle mahogany four poster and lifting his trunk easily on top of it.

Harry chose the one next to the wall by the bathroom door. "Father said he's going to send over some of my things from the Manor once I know what I want to personalise our room…I think I'll make a list." The blonde boy paced around the room pointing out things and murmuring to himself. "My Persian rug will go here, and my desk over there-" he pointed to the space at the end of his bed. "I think I shall ask for some bookshelves too and the wardrobe is decent but that will have to be moved to make room for them."

Since the dungeon quarters spanned almost the entire length and breadth of Hogwarts there was much more room for the Slytherins than those allotted to the other houses like Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The Hufflepuffs whose rooms were also in the dungeon had taken a small corner, not wanting to be greedy and make the other houses jealous, those rooms went mostly unused which made most Slytherins scoff. They were transformed into classrooms (empty), guest suites that were never used and spare rooms that contained nothing more than cobwebs and dust.

"…of course when we get to fourth year we can petition for our own rooms. They're much bigger of course. My father had his own room when he reached his third year and my grandfather Abraxas Malfoy made sure it was the best—"

The door opened through Malfoy's prattling speech and Nott stood in the doorway. "Do you mind if I share a room with you?" he looked from Harry to Malfoy, a little nervous though he was trying to hide it.

Before Harry could even think of answering Nott (although he knew very well that he couldn't – unless Nott could understand sign language – which he doubted very much!) Malfoy had answered for him.

"This room's full." He said flippantly, digging through his trunk for quill and parchment. Harry saw Nott's eyes flick to the empty bed. "Potter and I are sharing this room with Gregory – when he gets here. I'm sure Zabini will let you share with him." Notts gaze flicked to Harry and filled with dislike when Harry made no move to change Malfoy's mind. Nott left without another word, passing Gregory Goyle as he entered their room, his name appearing on the plaque when his hand touched the door.

Goyle looked at Nott's retreating back and then to Malfoy. "Something wrong?" he asked gruffly.

Malfoy shook his head. "No. Is there?"

"Other than Nott's stormed off in a strop, no."

"Good. Now, let's get our homework done so we have the rest of the evening to ourselves, I don't fancy staying up late the night before to finish it."

For the next two hours Harry found out a lot about his new dorm mates.

Gregory, while mostly seen as rather dumb because of his silence was quite intelligent when it came to numbers, business and finance. He enjoyed Quidditch and Arithmancy which Harry found out was one of the electives once they reached third year to take for tests called OWLS (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). He wanted to work in Arithmancy, accounting or in an advisory capacity for finance and business.

Draco, who of course was very spoiled and spouted his father's opinions whenever he could, was very interested in potions, hoping to apprentice under his Godfather Professor Severus Snape when he graduated Hogwarts although he was meant to go into the ministry like his father and take over the responsibilities a respected Malfoy heir should. He was very good at Wizards Chess, enjoyed potions and runes which was another elective Harry could take when he was in third year.

When it came to Harry's turn to say something he huffed out a breath through his nose and shook his head and laid down his cards, winning the game of 'Exploding Snap' the boys had taught him quickly how to play. The burst of cards was enough to distract both boys from their line of questioning when a Slytherin prefect knocked and entered.

"Lights go out in ten minutes. Prepare for bed we will be departing for breakfast at ten minutes to seven, do not be late."

They washed up quickly and changed into their pyjamas. Malfoy's were emerald green silk, Goyle's were navy blue and Harry's pyjamas consisted of a oversized purple t-shirt and a pair of shorts that looked as though they could fit three of Harry in one leg hole. The boys didn't comment on Harry's sleeping attire, all climbing into their own beds, pulling the curtains closed and drifting off to sleep.

Once Harry's curtains were closed he lay down in his bed and pulled up the thick green quilt to his chin, revelling in the feeling of a full belly, soft sheets and despite the whispers, odd looks and questions he'd been subjected to, he felt it had been a stellar first day.

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"There, look."

"Where?"

"What? Isn't that Malfoy?"

"Next to Malfoy you dolt!"

"I still can't believe he's in Slytherin."

"He might be nice…"

"Who cares, did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

It took all Harry's willpower not to raise his hand to his neck to cover the area, despite the fact it was already covered by his usual bandage and the high collars of his shirt and high-collared robe he had bought in Diagon Alley. That was the scar he felt most important, not the tiny one on his forehead.

He found it odd that there were people lining up to get a look at him. He must have passed the same Gryffindor three times on his way to Herbology, standing there mouth agape. Harry could have imagined it would have been a lot worse had he been on his own. Malfoy had taken it upon himself to become Harry's guide, and bodyguards by extension, Crabbe and Goyle. He was a little bit more appreciative of their efforts when they stopped a student from an older year approaching with clicks of their knuckles and menacing expressions, although why the older boy was afraid of a few first years was another matter. Malfoy took any opportunity to clue Harry in about Hogwarts, the students, the subjects, and anything else he felt like talking about.

Yesterday they'd been shown around Hogwarts, using their day off to get used to the school and settle into their dorms and get to know their house mates. They were shown the library by the Slytherin prefects, bathrooms, been given warnings about Peeves, the Third Floor Corridor (which Harry didn't find the least bit interesting, he'd rather stay alive thank-you-very-much!), house points, Quidditch and everything else they felt relevant or what a Slytherin needed to know.

Now it was their second day at Hogwarts, and this time they had to attend lessons.

"Charms class is useful I suppose, but really, all the cleaning is for the girls, unless you have house elves, I suppose you do being a Potter? And why would anyone need something to levitate or tap dance?" he looked at Harry for an answer who just shrugged, but Malfoy seemed pleased with his silent answer. The boy clearly liked the sound of his own voice, and Harry acted as the perfect sounding board. "Defence Against the Dark Arts is utter Hogwash this year, Quirrell's nothing but a stuttering bundle of nerves. Apparently when he was travelling he was attacked by a vampire or something, that's supposed to be why he smells so bad because of all the garlic. But really, garlic doesn't repel vampires completely, just puts them off a bit. They've got very strong senses you know, and are very fast. They could probably get Quirrell before he even realised it. It is a flimsy excuse for bad hygiene."

As Malfoy went on, it seemed Harry had a lot to learn about the Wizarding World. However, he had gained some knowledge of what it was like. It was sexist, prejudiced; it was about whom you knew not what you knew, and the creatures from muggle (people who didn't have magic) fairy tales and horror stories had some truth to them. Harry wasn't sure whether he liked this new world better, or worse than the muggle one he'd just left. It seemed to be fraught with dangers, especially concerning someone called 'You-Know-Who' or 'The Dark Lord' as Malfoy called him.

Malfoy continued on disturbing Harry's thoughts. "Potions class is bound to be the best by far. Professor Snape is my Godfather you know" Malfoy said proudly, puffing out his chest. "He tutored me a little before we started Hogwarts so I could get ahead early. And I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? Have you had any potion's tuition before? I suppose you have, being the Boy-Who-Lived"

Like You-Know-Who, the Boy-Who-Lived was another name that had been passed around. At first, he'd thought everyone had known about Ripper, and the scar on his neck, but when their eyes always strayed from his face to his forehead, he knew that wasn't true. He would have to find out what it meant later.

Mostly, Harry just nodded along with whatever his self-elected guide said and followed him down to the dungeons, taking the seat beside him on the right side of the classroom. So far, Professor Snape was absent, and Gryffindor's were filling in on the left hand side. There was a clear divide through the middle of the classroom, Harry didn't need to wonder why because Malfoy muttered scornfully under his breath. "At least they know their place already, stupid Griffindor's, as if we'd ever mix with them." Clearly there was something wrong with associating with other houses; Harry put that away to remember for later.

Then, when the Gryffindors thought they were safe, and chatted happily, the door to the classroom slammed against the wall with a loud BANG! Professor Snape strode in, the door slamming behind him; his robes billowing around his form as he swept quickly to the front of the room and turned to face them all. His lank greasy hair hung limply around his pale face, thin lips pressed in a line and black eyes that made Harry think of deep dark pits, assessed everyone carefully making them all sit straighter in their seats.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word he said, able to keep the class with little effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving in here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence followed his speech and Malfoy wore a smug expression beside him, smirking at a girl, Gryffindor of course, who was on the edge of her seat.

"Muggleborn." Malfoy whispered nastily in Harry's ear. "I can tell she's going to be a pain already."

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly, "what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" the only movement Harry made was to focus his gaze on Snape's face. He'd read all his course books already, so he knew the answer, but he didn't think writing it down was an option. Hagrid had said they were important and told him to read and remember them. Harry did so, but there was no way he could tell Professor Snape that.

"What? You don't know?"

From the corner of Harry's eye he could see the Muggleborn girl waving her arm in the air as though her life depended on it. The answer was Asphodel and Wormwood combine to make a powerful sleeping potion called Draught of the Living Death.

"Very well, Mister Malfoy, do you know?"

"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as Draught of Living Death, sir." Malfoy said proudly.

"Good. Five points to Slytherin."

"Weasley!" a boy with bright red hair, long nose and freckles looked nervously up towards Professor Snape. "Where would I look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry vaguely remembered him from the train. The boy had chattered nonstop for about an hour before he got up and moved to another compartment despite saying there wasn't room anywhere else, unnerved by Harry's silence and emotionless face. There were a few others who tried to sit in his compartment but eventually they left and stopped coming, knowing to leave the silent creepy boy alone.

Under Snape's hard stare the boy turned bright red, "I-I don't know sir."

"Five points from Gryffindor. Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh Mr Weasley?" he turned to the Slytherin side of the room, completely ignoring the girls waving hand. "Mr Zabini, the answer?"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir, it can cure most poisons."

"Five points to Slytherin." Malfoy traded a triumphant look with Zabini who nodded back. It seemed the Slytherin's were favourites in this class but at least they knew the answers. "Weasley, I'll give you another chance. What is the difference between Monkshood and wolfsbane?" At this, the muggleborn girl stood up, he hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," the Weasley said, looking angry, "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you ask her?"

A few people laughed; Harry looked at Malfoy from the corner of his eye, he was trying to hold back his grin and sniggered quietly. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down Granger!" he snapped at the girl who immediately lurched back eyes wide and hand flat against her side. "Mr Nott! Answer the question!" he barked.

Nott looked slightly uneasy under his Head of House's stare although the anger wasn't directed at him, "There's no difference, sir." Nott said quietly.

"Correct, it is also known by its other name of Aconite. Five points to Slytherin." He looked around the class with a frown. "Well, why aren't you writing this down?"

Harry decided that potion's class wasn't really as bad as everyone had made it out to be. Once they'd been put in pairs, Snape set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black robes, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Harry and Malfoy's potion, giving Harry an odd look all the while. Following directions was one of the few things Harry could do.

He didn't even need Malfoy's help really, who just handed Harry the ingredients and talked through what he knew about them, any new knowledge Harry filed away for later. Harry chopped, sliced, diced, crushed and measured, putting the ingredients in the cauldron at the allotted time with the right amount of stirs. It was easy because he could read well despite his poor glasses, and had years of practice behind the stove making dinner for the Dursley's, and there were all sorts of complicated instructions that he had to follow there.

By the end of the lesson there had been only one explosion - facilitated by Malfoy slipping in a random ingredient from the leftover mess that Weasley and Finnigan had grudgingly handed in as their own. Harry and Malfoy's potion on the other hand was perfect, earning them another five points for Slytherin house.

As Snape had finished inspecting their potion and moved onto the next, Harry heard him say "At least he can follow instructions." Snape had said it under his breath and Harry didn't think he was meant to hear, but he was good at listening, just like he was good at following instructions. He had heard once that if you lose one of your senses, the others you have left become sharper and improve. Speaking wasn't precisely a sense, but it was to Harry, and it was important, he was sure his other senses had improved since its loss. Once they'd bottled their potions Harry took their sample to the desk while Malfoy cleared away. As he reached out his hand to put it carefully in the rack, Snape gave him another odd look and Harry placed it in the tray and backed away quickly, picking up his things to go to their next lesson. He could feel Snape's burning gaze in the middle of his bony back as he walked away.

"We have Charms, lunch, and then transfiguration." Malfoy said, as though Harry wasn't aware, the boys chatter was good at distracting him from his thoughts of Snape's odd look. Perhaps he knew there was something wrong with Harry? Maybe Professor Snape would find out and think him too weird to go to Hogwarts and he'd be kicked out and…

"Let's go." Malfoy strode forward, Harry walked quickly next to him, aware of Crabbe and Goyle following behind, the other members of their house had already left but it didn't take them long to figure it out. They found the charms class quickly and took their seats, waiting for their Professor to begin.

Professor Flitwick was a short, bouncy little man with white fluffy hair and a terribly squeaky voice. He almost fell off his stool when he called out Harry's name and looked around for him. Since Harry couldn't speak (although no one knew that) he had taken to raising his hand to show where he was like he'd done in his muggle school, or, Malfoy would answer for him with a brisk "yes sir," or "he's here." So far no one had really mentioned anything about his lack of speech for which he was thankful.

Flitwick introduced the topic and he talked them through what they would be learning this year and how important charms were. He told them to read a page in their textbooks they'd bought and then set them to practicing the pronunciation for a levitation spell. The lesson finished quickly and Harry followed Malfoy out of the class, heading over to the Great Hall for lunch. The observant eyes of Fillius Flitwick followed him out the door.

At lunch the conversation went on well enough around him, but they kept trying to ask his opinion on things and he was uncomfortably aware of the stares of several teachers at his back. Harry just shrugged or ignored the questions, nodding occasionally, eating his full plate of food and paying attention to Malfoy which the blonde boy seemed to enjoy.

"You don't talk much do you?" Parkinson said as they were getting up. Harry turned to look at her and shook his head. The girl frowned, but said nothing else and they went on their way to transfiguration. This lesson was much, much worse than any of the others. Professor McGonagall seemed determined to get him to answer at least one question, pronounce a spell, or simply open his mouth. Harry always breathed through his nose. There was a terrible rasping sound whenever he breathed through his mouth and the Dursley's had always hated that.

"Mr Potter, how are you to perform the spell if you cannot practice the incantation! If you continue with your silence you will be forced to lose points for Slytherin house." Professor McGonagall was a tall, stern woman with black hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose. She had thin lips that pressed into a _very_ thin line when she was displeased, and she could turn into a cat. Which Harry thought was much better than turning into a dog. She really wasn't someone to mess with.

Malfoy gave him a nudge with his elbow and shook his head minutely. Harry really didn't want to upset Malfoy, who, while not a friend was a very helpful, informative safety barrier between him and the other students. By upsetting Professor McGonagall he would lose points for Slytherin house and upset the rest of his house _and_ Professor Snape who he _really _didn't want to upset. With careful movements he pulled his wand from where it had been tucked in his sleeve, aware of McGonagall, Malfoy and several others watching him, he pointed it at the wooden matchstick and concentrated on the appearance of a needle. Harry thought the incantation clearly in his mind. He'd worked with needles quite often when Dudley was intent on roughhousing and tugged his clothes too hard, splitting the worn material at the seams.

He heard a faint gasp from Professor McGonagall, so quiet that he was sure only they were aware of it. His needle was perfectly shinny, metal and pointy, with a perfect 'eye' at the end. When he had enough of the shocked stares of his classmates and the seemingly frozen state of Professor McGonagall, he tucked away his wand and looked up at her. McGonagall seemed to shake herself out of her daze and blink rapidly. He'd performed the spell like she'd asked. He could see nothing odd about his actions.

"Very impressive Mr Potter." She had picked up the needle and examined it; she gave a small pleased 'hmm' of surprise before placing it back on his desk. "Five points to Slytherin for being the first one to change your matchstick to such a state and take an additional five points for doing it silently." She offered him a small smile before looking at Malfoy and asking him to transfigure his needle, but that he need not do it silently. Malfoy nodded, and, with a look of concentration on his pale pointed face he said the incantation. The matchstick slowly morphed into a good silver needle, except that it still felt like wood when Professor McGonagall picked it up. "There is no need to worry Mr Malfoy," McGonagall said, "transfiguration is a very difficult art and changing wood to metal is very difficult. It takes some practice to get it right."

With one last glance at Harry Professor McGonagall moved onto the other students, correcting their pronunciation or wand movements. Since Harry and Malfoy had finished, they observed the rest of their classmates attempts. Zabini and Greengrass did well although the 'eye' part of the needle was slightly misshapen. Crabbe and Goyle's matchsticks gained a sharpened point and nothing else; Parkinson's was very good, nice and pointy with a smooth texture and Notts had the shape and correct 'eye' but still looked like wood, and when he noticed Harry was looking at him glared until Harry got bored and turned away to look at the other students. The Gryffindors really didn't fare much better except Hermione Granger, the muggleborn Malfoy had called annoying in Potions.

At dinner Harry went to sit next to Malfoy, Pansy was on his right so he moved to sit on Malfoy's left when Nott pushed past him and took the free seat before Harry could get to it. Harry felt a brief surge of annoyance before he shrugged it off and moved to sit on the other side of the table. Nott was looking rather smug which Harry chose to ignore and ate his dinner, the smug smile fading slightly when there was no reaction from Harry.

It was only the end of his second day at Hogwarts but Harry had come to adore the food provided. There was every type of food Harry could imagine, heaped up on gold platters and dishes that always decorated the house tables before a meal. Harry made sure to pick a little of everything, checking that he had a balanced diet (although it was a surprise he knew what one was since all Dudley wanted to eat was rubbish all the time!) he felt he could get used to this. Mealtimes were something he had always hated back at the Dursleys, having to cook and watch Dudley devour what he made so fast the brute had little time to chew or savour the food like Harry would have done made his gut boil with anger. Aunt Petunia always watched him while he cooked too, making it impossible to sneak treats and scraps of food to eat. Sometimes, if he was quiet enough, he'd sneak downstairs and go through the bin scavenging for the leftovers of the meals he made, but this…this was heaven.

"How did you do it?"

Harry was drawn out of his thoughts and food by Malfoy's question. He tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow; thankfully, Parkinson got the gist of this movement and repeated Malfoy's question.

"How did you cast that spell silently in Transfiguration, Potter. We'd all like to know." And indeed, it seemed like the whole of the Slytherin first years had stopped eating to listen to him – even Crabbe and Goyle who seemed more like menacing statues than boys. Harry shrugged, hoping they'd drop it. "They don't teach silent casting until sixth year you know; did you have a tutor beforehand?"

Harry lifted up his hands and shrugged again before going back to eating his dinner using his limp black hair to shield his face. He heard Pansy huff and he felt the curious stares being sent his way, but thankfully they dropped it and got back to eating their dinner. Once they'd finished and retired back to their common room to complete reading assignments and homework tasks, Harry felt a hand grab hold of his shoulder and yank him back so he was staring at Theodore Nott.

"You're just trying to make us all look bad, aren't you Potter?"

At his words Malfoy noticed that Harry was no longer behind him and turned around with a frown. Harry was a head shorter than Nott who was tall, thin and gangly while Harry was pale and expressionless and kept his arms by his side instead of going for his wand like Draco would have done. Especially if someone had grabbed _him_ like that! It was during his quick perusal of his two housemates that he noticed how excruciatingly thin Harry Potter really was. He looked better than when he had arrived with a pink flush in his cheeks from the good food and the long trek down to the dungeons. Draco started to wonder why Harry hadn't said anything yet; perhaps it was a tactic, but he couldn't remember Potter ever speaking…

Theodore Nott reminded him a bit of Piers Polkiss, a rat-faced friend of his cousin Dudley's, who used to actively participate in a game they liked to call 'Harry Hunting'. "See, you've got nothing to say because you know it's true." Harry still said nothing, showing no reaction to his Slytherin housemate making Nott angry. Their 'conversation' had garnered quite a bit of interest from those in the common room and Malfoy was looking at Nott with a frown.

"Now see here Nott—" Malfoy began, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him he advanced forward, "Potter hasn't done anything so leave him alone."

"But I don't see why he can't share how he did the silent casting with us. Aren't you the least bit interested that he's going to show us all up?!"

"Not at all," Malfoy said coolly, "it's Potter's business, and if he wants to share he can. I'm not making you pour out every secret you've ever had, am I? Although I doubt you've got anything worth revealing if you're pressing someone for answers what you can find out yourself."

Harry could see Nott's jaw clench and grind his teeth together a moment before he abruptly turned and left, exiting the common room and striding out into the dungeons. Harry watched him go, the boy was probably going somewhere to sulk, he'd been humiliated rather publicly in the common room which definitely had to smart.

"Are you alright?" Malfoy asked and Harry turned back to him with a strange feeling in his chest on remembering that Malfoy had stood up for him. No one had ever done that before. Maybe Malfoy wasn't as bad as Harry had thought him to be.

* * *

Severus Snape sat in the staff room reading his recently received subscription to Potion's Weekly while he waited for the staff meeting to begin. It had been a long week, just like the many others to come he expected, and thanked the Founders that it was now the weekend. No doubt Albus would prolong the first staff meeting of the year with trivialities, probably hoping to take up as much of Snape's Friday night as he could.

Quirrell was the first to arrive. "Thank Merlin i-it's F-Friday eh S-Severus?"

"Astute as ever Quinirus, although if this conversation becomes a habit I will be forced to cut your tongue from your throat." Snape uttered blandly over the top of his magazine.

Quirrell gave a terrified gasp an hurriedly sat down on the furthest chair away from him. Snape found Quirrel incredibly annoying, especially when they 'bumped' into each other in the hall and the man insisted on making conversation. It was only with various threats of violence upon his person that Quirrell had toned down the conversation to a "Good morning, Severus!" at breakfast and a "Good evening!" during the later hours when they met each other patrolling or when the staff retired to their rooms for the night.

Thankfully he didn't have to suffer Quirrell's presence alone much longer as the rest of the staff filed in, Minerva McGonagall first followed by Professor Babbling, Aurora Sinstra, Madam Pince, Argus Filch, Fillius Flitwick, Sybil Trelawney, Silvanus Kettleburn and Pomona Sprout. Albus Dumbledore was the last to arrive as usual wearing garish orange robes and a lime green pointed hat that sat lopsided on his head.

"Good evening everyone, I hope we've all had a delightful first week back!" Albus' blue twinkling eyes passed over his tired staff. "I expect the exuberance of the students has taken us a little by surprise which makes this weekend all the more welcome, and thus, I won't keep you from your Friday evening relaxations for long." He conjured a table and moved the seats (all occupied) closer to the table so they could all sit around it comfortably. "Now we'll begin with the negative and end with the positive – it says here that three detentions have already been awarded-I mean given to Messer's Fred and George Weasley, would someone like to explain…"

It was a gruelling two hour long meeting that made Severus and the rest of the staff race for the door in a controlled, orderly manner that may or may not have included elbowing or subtle stinging hexes that enabled certain members to get to the door first. Severus, was of course, just twisting the handle when he heard Albus call he, Minerva, Fillius and Pomona back. Severus muttered a curse under his breath as he stepped to the side allowing the rest of the relieved staff to shoot out and slam the door shut.

"If I might have a word with you all, I'd like to ask your opinion on something." Severus moved back to the chairs, the table gone and room returned to rights, he settled in his armchair and paid attention to the headmaster.

"Really Albus, what possibly can you have to say to us now after the meeting." The late hour seemed to have made Minerva cranky but Albus looked delighted.

"Quite a few things actually my dear, lemon drop?" he pulled the bag of candies out of his pocked and offered them around, his offers were all declined. He sighed and tucked them back into his pocket looking much more serious than he had all evening. "I would like to know your opinions on Harry Potter. You have all had him for several classes this week. Anything we say now will be kept in the strictest confidence you understand?" the four Heads of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin all nodded seriously, their desire to leave the room fading rapidly.

Pomona started the ball rolling with her own observations of Potter. "He's very quiet in class, but his written work is good and he always listens when I speak."

_Like every student should be_ Snape thought with a mental scoff.

Fillius nodded eagerly, "yes, his written work is excellent. Very clear, well thought out arguments, very intelligent thoughts. Although in my class he is quiet."

Minerva frowned. "I haven't heard him speak a word since I met him! I tried to get him to answer me in class but he didn't answer one!"

"Are you sure they weren't too hard for him?" Pomona suggested.

"They were all of varying difficulty, things that were all in the first few chapters of the assigned first year text book. He has the book and seems to have read it from the written work I assigned in class on Wednesday. It was the best out of the lot." Minerva said. Was that a hint of jealousy he detected? In the few weeks before the start of term when the teachers had returned to the school to prepare for the new year, Minerva had been sure that Harry Potter would become one of her 'cubs' like his father and mother were before him. It was the root of several glares and indignant huffs between them (on Minerva's part) for stealing her meant-to-be-Gryffindor. "Whenever I set a spell to perform in class he always performs it correctly on the first try, but, he does it silently."

"And is that a problem?" Fillius asked. He couldn't see that it was.

"Well no but I like to know that my students are pronouncing their spells properly."

"Odd." Was all Albus said, he looked to Snape who had said nothing so far. "Severus, as the boy's Head of House what are your opinions of him?"

"He has not spoken a word since he got here." They knew he was not telling all and with their knowing stares directed at him he decided to tell them all of his observations. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to sort this out on his own. "It has come to my attention that over the past week Mr Potter has not spoken a single word to, or about his housemates during his first week at Hogwarts. The boy is painfully thin and eats every meal as though it is his last. Although you may not like to think so, I believe Mr Potter is being neglected."

Pomona gasped a quiet "oh dear, poor boy," Fillius shook his head sadly and Minerva turned her eyes on Albus full of fire.

"I told you," she said quietly. "Not to put the boy with them, but you insisted Albus—"

"My dear, please, if all this is true then I sincerely and _deeply_ regret my actions but before we accuse anyone of anything we need to gather evidence."

"The boy is skin and bone Albus! What more evidence do you need than that?!"

"Severus, if you please, go on."

Trust Albus to know there was more to it. "Yesterday," he began, knowing that Albus would twinkle at him for this. "I invited my godson for a meeting in my private rooms and after asking about Draco and how he was doing I inquired about Mr Potter. My Godson doesn't really know what to make of the boy but I have instructed him to look out for him." _There it was that damn twinkle!_ "He shared some of his own observations with me while he was there. He said Potter's only answers to their questions are shakes or nods of his head, or he shrugs his shoulders; His recreational clothing is practically rags riddled with patches and are far too large for him. Draco swore to me that if Potter had stayed still long enough when he was getting changed for bed one night that he could have counted all his ribs and ridges on his spine."

"This is…disturbing news," Albus sighed looking tired. "I believe your student evaluations are coming up soon Severus?"

"I will speak to the first years next week as usual." He paused, "there is also something else you must know. Draco mentioned that he has seen some sort of wrap around Potters throat once or twice. Whether it is anything to be worried about or not I do not know, it is something that may be important, although I have never seen it."

"He keeps it well covered." Fillius interjected. "On all his clothes I have seen so far, even his robes, he has high collars. I suspect it may be used to hide the wrap young Mister Malfoy has spotted."

They waited for Albus to speak, his lips were pursed and fingers threaded through his beard as he concentrated. "Perhaps a meeting with Mr Potter sooner rather than later is prudent Severus. Is tomorrow doable? Good, we should act quickly and find out the truth behind these observations. What has been brought to light about Mr Potter is cause for concern; I just hope that things are not as bad as I fear."

* * *

It was Saturday morning and he'd slept later than usual, taking the time to finish off his work and eat the breakfast someone had set on his bedside table while he'd been asleep. Once he'd finished all that he'd walked out of his room and down the stairs to the common room when he heard a very interesting conversation to which he was the topic.

Harry listened, concealed in the shadows of the staircase that led to the boys' dorm, managing to catch a glimpse of his year mates gathered at the sofas by the fireplace since the older years were not yet up. He watched with suspicious eyes as Nott slipped beside Malfoy and joined in their speculation about him.

"Maybe he's deaf, he hasn't spoken a word since I met him." Daphne suggested. "I have an uncle who's deaf. He doesn't join in the conversation because he can't hear us and doesn't want to embarrass himself, I think."

He heard someone snort. "Well at least he can nod and shake his head – and if he wants to keep silent then that's his choice isn't it." Harry located the owner of the voice, belonging to Millicent Bulstrode, as she wrote out an essay due for Charms on the coming Monday. Although she'd barely spoken two words to him since they'd been introduced at the welcome feast, Harry found his opinion of her rising.

"Well it's quite rude," Pansy Parkinson sniffed. "He should answer us once in a while rather than ignore us completely."

"He's doing it with nods and a shrug isn't he?" Zabini added in sounding bored.

Draco shook his head, "No, he doesn't ignore us Pansy." Harry wondered when Malfoy had become Draco, although over the past week they had become allies of a sort and Harry enjoyed their nightly games with Gregory of Gobstones, Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess (the pieces protesting when he picked them up to move them himself across the board – Draco thought it hilarious). "And he's not deaf."

"How do you know?" Crabbe asked, Goyle sitting by his side.

"Well if he didn't know what the questions were and was deaf then he wouldn't be able to nod or shake his head in answer would he? Plus he always listens to what I say. He's not deaf."

Pansy was persuaded by Draco's point. "Well…I suppose that could be true. He's very good at magic, he has to be able to hear the instructions to know what we're doing and he's always the first to finish everything – yes, I agree with Draco" the others murmured their agreement too and Harry watched carefully.

Nott took this as his opportunity to make his opinion known. "Really?" he said in surprise making the others look at him. "Don't you think he's a bit…simple?" Harry wasn't fooled by that 'concerned' tone from Nott, seething silently as he badmouthed Harry to his year mates. "I mean, it might just have been a bit of a fluke all that silent casting and whatnot. You have to have at least some form of intelligence to converse with someone and it doesn't seem as though Potter has enough to do even that!" Nott's voice was loud and Harry was sure the whole common room could hear him, Harry certainly could and he was on the other side of the room to them.

_I'm mute not deaf, imbecile! _Harry wanted to shout. It was probably the first time he'd ever really wanted to speak. That he could remember of course, but in this first week Nott had made snide little remarks and even pushed him out of the way in Herbology so he had to partner with a Gryffindor called Neville Longbottom who had shook in terror at his proximity.

Harry was about to step out of the shadows and make his presence known, he couldn't have Nott badmouth him anymore or he'd be seen as weak, when the door to the common room opened and Professor Snape stepped through. He spotted Harry immediately.

"Potter. Your student progress meeting has been moved up to today, come with me."

Harry stepped into the common room properly and turned to follow Professor Snape out, just in time for a quick glare at Nott before the door closed behind him.

* * *

**AN – Okay answering questions time…**

Harry can learn in Slytherin house because he has Draco (who he shook hands with in this AU story) and Draco loves the sound of his own voice so he'll share everything with Harry. Harry was raised to do as he was told, and he will, but he has a strong sense of self preservation and will stick to those like Draco who he has identified as the 'leader' amongst the Slytherin first years.

The sorting hat has been instilled with the magic of the founder s so that it couldn't share what it learnt in the mind of those it sorted because they believed the mind was sacred above all else. There is a loophole for this rule in which the person who is wearing the hat can give permission for it to share the information it finds with someone in higher authority but this is very rare as most students want their secrets to remain a secret. In this world/AU fic once the hat is put on a student's head the hat has to sort it, and the hat is usually then passed onto the next student.

As you can see I've taken a more pro-active sort of style to Dumbledore. I don't think that he genuinely believes that Harry could have been badly abused as he always tries to see the best in people and gives them chance after chance after chance. I believe that Dumbledore thought that Harry would be treated as she did her own son, with care but so that Harry didn't get a big head which was what he wanted – but not like this. When he finds out what's been done he will be genuinely remorseful.

You were correct in your assumption that Snape would be able to spot the signs anthony37, although it would be pretty hard not to spot with how thin and pale he is *sadface* we get to see what his reactions are to Harry's situation in the next chapter, and Lily would DEFINITELY be on the warpath if she found out what had happened to her baby!

Harry's a little less like a robot in this one but he's still doing as he's told and following through with instructions/directions and sticking with Draco like a shadow. It's going to take a bit of time but he's going to learn that Hogwarts isn't like Privet Drive at all. Glad you liked it!

Thank you to Ka**tconan, Rainbow2007, DarkRavie, mworth1019, Flying Chrissy, Anthony 37, MeBeJustMe, Rainbow185, Patronus-Charm54093, HiPotAndNews, and pureangel86**

I'm glad you like it!


	4. Deepest Regrets

**AN – Wow, two updates in one night, I'm so on top of things…this week. Don't know whether it's going to last. Really want a kebab right now…**

**Anyway, hope you like!**

**Deviantart - AspiringAuthor20**

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Deepest Regrets**

Professor Snape opened the door to his office and shut it behind Harry who stood beside the Professor's desk. "Drink this." Snape demanded holding a murky brown potion for Harry to take. Harry did so and without further prompting removed the stopped and downed the potion without a grimace at the foul taste. It was a revitalising potion, filled with nutrients, and was usually used to treat patients who needed to gain weight and bolster their immune system. Although he showed no outward sign, Snape thought it odd that Potter would simply do as he was told in regards to an unknown potion given by an adult he'd known less than a week.

The professor's office was gloomy, cold, and had a very uncomfortable chair for visitors in front of his desk that he told Harry to sit on. He did so at once. At first he was calm, but as the time wore on Professor Snape became more and more frustrated with Harry's nods and shrugs. "Mr Potter," Snape said seriously. "How am I to determine whether your experiences of Hogwarts so far are positive? I cannot help you if you refuse to answer the questions in more detail than a simple nod, shake of the head or shrug."

How was he meant to answer the questions when he couldn't talk…? An idea came to Harry and he pointed to the quill sitting on the Professor's desk and made a writing motion in the air. Understanding the movement Professor Snape handed Harry a piece of clean parchment and pushed a pot of ink and tawny coloured quill over to Harry's side of the desk. He immediately began writing.

_I like it here._

Harry pushed the parchment back over to Professor Snape so he could read it.

"Can't you speak?"

_No._

Snape eyed him shrewdly. "Why?"

Harry hesitated as he wrote out the next words.

_It was an accident_. My aunts dog Ripper was chasing me…

After a gruelling hour of 'conversation' with Harry Potter Professor Snape decided that the Headmaster needed to be informed of recent developments and a plan of action made. There was no time like the present so Professor Snape led the way to the Headmaster's office, Potter following behind, and spoke the password to the gargoyle protecting the stairs to the Headmaster's tower.

"Candy Imps." He said reluctantly and the gargoyle leapt aside, he could see Potter staring at the stone figure warily from the corner of his eye, it had always given him the creeping fugwigs. "Quickly now," he said pulling his charge onto the moving spiral staircase behind him as it started to move. When they reached the top the door swung open before Snape could knock and were granted entrance with a cheerful 'come in!' from the headmaster. "Ah Severus, Mr Potter! Welcome, how can I assist you this morning?" The headmaster was all smiles but they didn't quite reach his eyes as he looked at the potion's master who gave the slightest of nods. "Sit down, please." They did so and, as usual, Lemon Drops were offered. Harry took one much to Albus' delight but Snape noticed that it was only after Albus had said "Take one, my boy" to Harry who seemed to stare at the bowl with indecision, did finally pluck one of the yellow candies from the bowl. "Now, what is this about, hmm?"

"Mr Potter has confided in me that he cannot speak due to an attack on his person by his aunt's bulldog Ripper when he was younger." Severus said solemnly.

Albus looked at Harry with a mixture of shock and deep sadness, "Mr Potter you have my sincerest apologies," the headmaster swallowed thickly, his eyes bright.

"_Luckily,"_ Severus could barely manage to keep his voice even under the circumstances, "the muggles got him to a hospital where they managed to repair some of the damage. Mr Potter said that the muggles could not restore his vocal cords and was left with some scarring which he covers with the bandages."

The headmaster was staring at Harry with an unreadable expression on his face. "Can you show me the scars Mr Potter?" he asked quietly. Harry nodded and removed his outer robes showing a ragged high-collared greying shirt which he undid the first five buttons revealing a pale chest and a bandage underneath that he had looped underneath his arms. Both wizards quietly frowned as Harry unpicked the bandage and unwrapped it with ease revealing puckered pink and white scars that stretched from ear to ear across the front of his throat, the skin bumpy and uneven.

The paintings behind the headmaster's desk who had sat still and listened intently to the happenings in the office gasped and exclaimed their shock at such scars on a boy so young. A silver instrument on a spindly legged table emitted a cloud of purple smoke.

"Why do you use the bandage Harry?" Albus asked the boy. His voice was guarded and slow, fighting against the rising tide of anger that threatened his control.

Harry looked to his Head of House and made a writing motion.

"Headmaster, may we borrow parchment, ink and a quill please?"

The headmaster handed them over without preamble and Harry used the edge of the desk to lean on when he wrote his answer.

_My aunt doesn't like them to show. She says they're ugly._

The headmaster was silent for a moment. "You may put your wrappings back on Mr Potter." He stood and moved to one of the bookshelves and gently pulled an aged tome from its place and carefully flicked through the pages. The headmaster hummed quietly before setting it back, he didn't retake his seat though. He stared at the books passing his hands over various titles as he spoke, "If I said there was a way to heal your throat, would you allow me to view the memory of the day?" he turned his serious blue eyes on Harry looking over his half moon spectacles. "It will help me to see what was done and how we can best fix it."

Harry bent his head before picking up the quill and writing on the parchment.

Professor Snape picked it up and read it. "What do I have to do?"

The headmaster nodded respectfully at Harry. "All you have to do is close your eyes and think about what happened. I will do the rest." Harry didn't need to be told twice and closed his eyes feeling the tip of the headmaster's wand at his temple.

Harry thought of the sick feeling he felt when he was told Aunt Marge was coming later that day so he _better not mess anything up!_ And…and seeing ripper…and Ripper chasing him…the tree—falling—Ripper at his throat. The blood, the burning pain, and the screams of his aunt that made his ears ring. Waking up in hospital and the nurses and doctors trying to help him and tell him what they'd done to his throat…the soreness…And then it was gone.

Harry opened his eyes feeling slightly disorientated, to see the headmaster's wand wave above a silver bowl and deposit a long strand of silver there.

Dumbledore looked at Harry from the corner of his eye, the tip of his wand swirling around the bowl making sure to mix it in properly. "Do you mind if the Professor and I view this memory, it helps to have a second opinion." Harry shook his head.

"It won't take long Mr Potter." Snape said as he stood and walked briskly over to the bowl. Harry watched as they dipped their fingers in the liquid the 'pensive' seemed to hold…and then they were sucked in.

* * *

Privet Drive was neat and tidy and the Headmaster and Professor Snape took their time to look around. The everything was insubstantial and slightly transparent revealing that this was a memory rather than real life. They stood observing the scene before them: Harry was cooking what looked to be lunch as a rather large woman entered the lounge who they quickly discovered to be 'Marge', Vernon's sister. She resembled Harry's uncle a great deal, large, beefy with a red splotchy face and hairy upper lip.

Snape sneered as Petunia fussed around her overweight son, looking worried as he was smothered by his obese aunt.

From the corner of his eye Snape saw Harry exit the small kitchen to put several plates of food on the dining room table when there was a snarl from beside him and a brown blur shot towards the boy.

Snape thought he'd never seen someone move so fast. Potter had bolted straight through the open doors that led into the garden and leapt towards a large tree at the back, his thin bony hands clinging to a thick branch that creaked ominously. Dumbledore strode forward to watch closer with a stony expression.

Despite the snarling and angry barking from the dog, and Harry Potter's terrified face, there was no reaction from the occupants of four privet drive. Until he slipped.

Snape felt bile rise in his throat as the dog latched onto Potter's throat, the boys wide green eyes so like his mothers, were wide with terror. They struggled for a moment, tears running down Potter's thin face, before a calm resignation seemed to pass over the boy, a look too old to be seen on such a young face. Potter's eyes started to close.

A pulse of crackling energy that came from Albus raised the hairs on the back of Snape's neck. He turned to look at his mentor finding him staring furiously into the house where Petunia, Marge and Vernon stared dumbstruck at the scene. It was only when a wild burst of accidental magic from Potter, threw the dog from him, did they move.

Petunia screamed loudly in horror; Dudley had exclaimed 'cool' but blanched when he saw all the blood, Vernon turned purple and white repeatedly in quick succession, while Marge fussed over Ripper who was whining pitifully with several broken bones on the floor underneath the kitchen window, a sizeable crack in the bricks behind him. Snape eyed the scene with disgust and from the corner of his eye saw a neighbour looking over the fence; the woman blanched before running inside her house, presumably to make the call that would save potter's life. It didn't seem likely that any of his family would do it.

The memory blurred and shifted until it focused enough to recognise that they were in a hospital. Potter lay on a bed, bandages wrapped around his neck, tubes sticking out of his nose, arms and one in his stomach. The boy looked almost dead.

"We did the best we could…I'm sorry but your vocal cords have been irreparably damaged…you may learn sign language." The words drifted in and out of his ears as they told Harry about what they'd done in 'theatre'. Potter had undergone several highly dangerous operations to reconstruct his throat and try to restore what they could – it wasn't much – and had been given a skin graft.

Severus and Albus could tell it hurt the boy to breathe and swallow and whenever he opened his mouth he made a terrible rasping noise that made Snape's skin crawl.

* * *

Harry saw the Headmaster and Professor Snape emerge from the pensive, looking carefully around him as several objects started to shake. This had happened a few minutes ago while they were looking at his memory. Harry didn't know what had caused it but the glass cabinet that stretched across the back wall now sported a large crawling crack.

There was something electric in the air that made Harry's skin prickle and the hairs on his arms stand on end. He thought it was the headmaster. He no longer looked cheerful, calm, serious or stern like he had when Harry had been in his presence before, but his blue eyes seemed to burn with an angry fire and small bolts of light leapt from his clenched hands. He walked swiftly back to the shelves and started pulling out several books, muttering things to himself and to the portraits who were offering their own suggestions.

"Grow it back."

"Get a donor – any muggle off the street will do."

"Are you mad? You can't do that!"

"Mr Potter," Professor Snape said quietly, "you may return to the Slytherin common room. You will be notified when we have found a viable solution for your situation. Your cooperation is very much appreciated." The last sentence was softer and Snape's black eyes looked into his own green ones with the light of a promise. Harry nodded once, stood and left the office, the thud of books fading as he descended the spiral staircase.

Once Professor Snape was sure the boy had left he turned to the headmaster who was flicking through a large worn leather book the parchment yellowed with age.

"What are you planning to do?"

Dumbledore looked up, "We're going to find a solution and fix his throat. And then," he growled, "we're going to get him away from the muggles."

"Would you like me to visit Petunia?" Snape asked coming around to the idea, he'd love to be the one to knock her down a peg – or five.

"No," the headmaster said firmly a look of grim determination on his aged face. "I was the one to put him there, it is my fault, and I will undo what has been done."

* * *

**AN – **

**Thanks to…**

**DarkRavie, **

**moriahhh, **

**anthony37, **

**TheJinxer, **

**Patronus-Charm54093 (**As the Head of Slytherin house Snape will act more favourably towards his charges, that includes Harry, maybe even more so when they find out the extent of Harry's injuries and mistreatment at the Dursleys…**)**

**chibi blue mouse, **

**SlytherinRiddle (**I totally agree**), **

**mworth1019, **

**RebeliousOne, (**That's a very interesting point, I'm looking forward to writing about this in future chapters. In response to none of the Slytherin's noticing that Harry was a mute firstly they're eleven, they've got a little way to go yet before – I think – they'd be able to realise what was going on. After all, who would suspect the Boy-Who-Lived was abused, especially since Dumbledore said he was safe in the beginning when he dropped him off at the Dursleys :) I'm glad you like it :D)

**HiPotAndNews, (**Definitely, Nott is a complete arse! Let's just hope that he sees sense soon enough!)

**MoonLight43, (**I love reading all sorts of fanfiction but I have a soft spot –if that's the right word really :S – for Harry being in a difficult situation and then rising above it and bettering himself.)

**Albionia.**

**For your lovely reviews, they really helped me to push this next chapter out **** Happy Holidays everyone!**


	5. Excuses and Truth

**AN – Sorry about the wait guys trying to get all my work done before new years (one analysis and a first draft essay to go!)**

**Anyway, hope you like!**

**Deviantart - AspiringAuthor20**

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Excuses and Truth**

Harry returned to the Slytherin common room and took a seat by Draco who was playing a game of wizard's chess against Blaise Zabini. Harry knew the rules but wasn't very good – the pieces tended to get angry and move on their own when he tried to move them the muggle way – and from the amount of broken pieces groaning quietly on the sidelines, Draco was losing.

"Come on Potter, help me win!" Draco whinged, scowling when Zabini took another of his pieces, the shards kicked to the side by Zabini's queen. Harry did as he was told and shuffled closer. Draco's broken chess pieces groaned quietly at the side. Huffing, Draco moved his last pawn. Zabini's lip curled and he ordered his queen to take it. The last pawn soon joined the others. Harry didn't think that Draco needed his help to lose.

Zabini linked his fingers under his chin and said smugly, "I'll let you have Potter this time. Not that it'll do you any good, I'll still win." The boy sat back in his chair and looked down at the board. "Your move." He said genially.

"What do you think we should do, Potter?" Draco asked frowning at the board. Harry moved his hand towards a piece, but it turned, yelled in a high-pitch voice and tried to stab Harry's fingers with its small marble sword.

Harry moved his hand back but Draco seemed to understand and questioned "Where?" Harry pointed and Draco ordered the piece to the square. Harry saw Zabini's eyes narrow as he planned his next move. He moved. They moved. Zabini moved again. On and on it went until finally, there was a victor.

"Huh. Perhaps next time just you and I can play, Potter. Together you make a rather suitable challenge." Zabini said suitably impressed, leaning back in his chair eyeing his decimated chess pieces. He gave a suffering sigh and hefted himself from his seat to dig into the pocket of his robes. He threw three gold squares down onto the board and waved his wand. "Reassemble." The cracked shards trembled and slowly shifted, rising until they clicked together moulding seamlessly to look like a perfectly new set. "Malfoy your book will be delivered next week." Scooping up his pieces which he tucked into his pocket he smirked at Harry and left the common room.

Beside him Draco let out a huffy laugh of relief and turned to him with partly-relieved-party-smug expression. "Well done Potter, thanks for that. It's a relief I won't have to explain to father I lost his 14th century ivory knife on a game of chess." He leaned forward and picked up the three gold squares. "Original Zabini examples of rune carving, of course, not all of them are here. Can't give away all the family secrets." Draco picked up his chess set, shrunk it down and put it in his pocket, beckoning Harry to follow as he went to put his things away.

"I'm going to try and get some practice in. The book Zabini's lending me will help me carve these out on my own. There's a special way to do it you see. Certain lines have to go first before you can do the rest. Anyway," he drawled tucking his winnings safely into his truck and closing the locks with a snap. "What did Professor Snape say in your assessment?"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore thought Privet Drive lacked original thought. The houses were the same. The trimmed lawns were the same. The cars were the same. Even the people were the same. They were all nosy, gossiping busy-bodies that he had no time for and disliked the longer he waited on the doorstep of number Four Privet Drive. He wore black robes this time. All black. There were no dancing lemon drops or twinkling stars, roaring lions or racing unicorns along the hem and sleeves. He looked more like a priest with his white hair and beard each tied neatly in a black band.

The door opened to reveal Petunia, a half formed greeting on her lips, before she paled and contracted a look of horror on her face, attempting to slam the door.

With barely a moment's thought he cast a quick eye-aversion charm behind him and used magic to force the door open, not caring whether Petunia got out of the way quick enough or not. He strode into the home, although prison would be more correct, and observed the space with distaste.

There was a distinct tang of cleaning fluids and everything was placed just-so. Petunia hadn't said anything yet but followed him cautiously as he walked through the hall to the lounge, and then the dining room, and small kitchen where the double French doors led out into the garden. He could see the tree where Harry had fallen from and felt his magic boil dangerously.

Cups rattled in their cupboards.

"What do you want?" Petunia spoke up, her voice trembled.

He gazed at her with a dispassionate eye. There were no signs of his usual genial old man persona present, rather his outward appearance revealed the fire and power within the wizard that had put a stop to the Grindelwald war. He was cold, calm and powerful. Terrifying.

"I'm here to talk about your _nephew_." He fought to keep from curling his lip at the obvious fear in Petunia Dursley's face.

"What's he done – what's he said?" she asked.

Cool blue eyes observed her over the rims of his half moon spectacles. "What makes you think he has _done_ or _said _anything?"

"Nothing, nothing,"

"Surely for you to mention it there must be something you wish to share?" he prodded.

Petunia's eyes darted from side to side, looking for an exit as though she was about to bolt. Not that she'd be able to get away. Not until Albus had got his answers from her. And even then, once he'd got his answers, would he want to let her go?

He wanted to draw it out, make her sweat a bit, but he found the longer he stayed in this torrid place the faster he wanted to get his business over with and leave. "I will not beat around the bush Petunia. Your nephew has shown signs of neglect and we have concerns about your treatment of him. I have come to validate those concerns."

Petunia's pale face gained an unhealthy flush of red and her face twisted with dislike. "Why that little brat! After everything we did for him—"

"He is _not_ a little brat." Albus said firmly, "I'm sure that anything you did for him he could have done without." He sneered nastily.

Cutlery rattled in its drawers.

"You're making it out like it's _my_ fault! It's yours – you dumped him on our doorstep – we never said we wanted him but you gave us no choice – you—"

"I know that he can't talk Petunia." Albus interrupted loudly and he gripped his wand tighter, petunia noticed the wand and flinched. "We know that your sister-in-law's dog tore out his throat and almost killed him."

Petunia's fists were clenched firmly at her sides and her voice was slowly rising in pitch until she was shrieking at him loudly in the face. "Marge had to have the dog put down, she's had restrictions and assessments on her other dogs and had to pay fine after fine! She won't visit anymore and we have to take the time to go all the way over to see her—"

"It's lucky she wasn't put in prison." He growled back. "I'm surprised Child Services didn't come to investigate. Harry is far too thin as it is."

She was trembling with a mix of rage and fear, her sneer set firmly in place to cover up her worry. "You'll be surprised what money can buy."

A glass fronted cabinet exploded behind her and she let out a shrill scream that tested the strength of Albus' silencing spell he'd hastily put up. The glass was propelled forward but just before it reached her, it dropped to the floor.

Petunia shook as she turned around back to face the headmaster breathing erratically.

"I will ask once more." He said once Petunia had stopped screaming. "I'm here to talk about your nephew – what have you done to him?"

This time Petunia really did try to run but invisible hands grabbed her and hauled her back in front of Albus. A source-less wind picked up and flicked Albus' hair and robes, the display of power made Petunia feel sick.

Albus crushed his anger and tried to calm himself. "I grow tired of this conversation and will extract the information I need in the quickest, cleanest manner possible. All you must to do is look into my eyes for a moment and then I will leave."

Petunia whimpered, her body going limp in the grip of the invisible hands.

Albus huffed when she refused to meet his eyes and he snagged her chin and pulled her face up to meet his gaze. Watery blue eyes met steely electric blue. Sharp pain lanced through her mind memories flashed behind her eyes…

_A meeting at the local primary school "Mrs Dursley your son is a bully" her Dudley? No, he wasn't! "Your nephew is very quiet – are there any conditions we need to be made aware of?" they knew! The freak must have told them something – be sympathetic, caring, make something up – "Yes, he does, it's a disease he inherited from his parents" that'll work "it's why he's so pale and thin you see, no matter how much we try and get him to eat –"_

_They were in the smallest bedroom at Privet Drive and Harry was sitting by the window. He couldn't have been more than four or five. "Get away from there! Someone might see you!" the curtains were drawn quickly and Harry moved to sit on the rickety camp bed amongst piles of broken toys that Dudley had forbidden him to touch._

_Vernon had come home puffing with exhaustion waving papers in the air. "I've done it…I've got them…far too much" he handed the papers over to Petunia who looked them over – amazing what money could buy really. Doctors papers, for Harry, with a long complicated name for the disease – incurable so far but caused sickness, blisters, redness and inflammation of the skin and it was _best if the child stay inside_ was the general diagnosis. Petunia copied the papers and brought them to the school. No further inquiries were made._

_"Hurry up boy and finish breakfast – don't burn it!...stupid boy how dare you contaminate Dudley…go to your room…there'll be no tea for you tonight!"_

The memories flew by faster and faster, Albus Dumbledore grew angrier and angrier and plates, cups and anything breakable fell from its place, shattered, and the shards whirled around them in the source-less wind every now and then cutting through Petunia's clothes and grazing her skin.

By the time Albus pulled out of Petunia's mind she was sobbing, cuts and grazes littered her body and the room looked as though a bomb had gone off.

Clouds had gathered outside, black and rumbling ominously.

"I cannot…you _disgust _me" he let go of her face, and she slumped to the floor breathing heavily, as though she was a puppet and her strings had just been cut.

"What are you going to do?" she croaked. "Are you going to kill me?"

He watched dispassionately as she struggled to her feet and picked glass out of her hands. "Death would be too good for the likes of you Petunia." He pulled out a rolled piece of parchment from a pocket in his robes and thrust it in her face, a quill appeared beside it. "Sign this – it's a contract to transfer guardianship of Harry from you to me."

She'd snatched the quill and finished signing her name with a shaky hand before he himself had finished explaining. A few seconds later she gasped when her signature was carved into the back of her hand. She looked up at him spitefully, cradling her bleeding hand

Albus tucked the parchment back in his pocket and eyed her angrily. It had started to rain outside and the heavy drops battered the windows.

"He's not normal—"

"You are the one who is not normal. Abusing a child is not normal." Petunia took a step back and broken glass cracked under her feet.

Albus really didn't care anymore, even if it was cruel. Petunia was fearful enough of magic to believe his words even if there was no truth to them.

"I curse you Petunia Dursley." He growled. "No matter where you go, or what you do, you will never be happy. You will live with your guilt until the day you die and regret ever harming a single hair on Harry Potter's head. Your delusional little world you live in will crumble around you. I _curse_ you."

Petunia let out a choked sob as Dumbledore turned and left without a backward glance.

* * *

Draco looked at Harry with wide grey eyes. "So _that's_ why you haven't spoken yet!" Harry nodded. "An infection in your throat – and the professor's are trying to fix it right?" Harry nodded again. "Well good…great I mean, then we can have proper conversations without your hand cramping up through writing everything down. But…why didn't you tell me before?" Harry just shrugged and let Draco make up his own answer, "well I don't think—"

There was a pop and a small wrinkled creature with large drooping ears and a long nose appeared at the end of Harry's bed. A quick raspy inhale belied Harry's surprise.

It spoke in a croaky voice, "Letter for Mr Potter." It said and held it out.

A quick glance at Draco showed he wasn't alarmed by the creature's sudden appearance and Harry cautiously took the letter. The creature bowed and popped away again.

_What was that?_ Harry wrote.

Draco scanned the paper and handed it back. "it's a house elf, like servants – they live in the kitchen. Who's that from?" Draco asked flopping down on his bed and tucking his hands behind his head.

Harry shrugged and opened it. After reading it through he passed it to Draco to read and let the blonde satisfy his curiosity.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you're not too busy then I'd like to invite you to tea this afternoon and see how you're getting on with everything._

_Hagrid._

"Hagrid? Isn't he the servant that lives in the hut outside?" Draco asked with distaste, holding the letter at the very edges and away from him as though he could catch something from it. "Are you going to go?"

Harry grabs his piece of parchment, quill, ink and writes.

_Yes._

Draco hands the letter back, "Why?"

_I met him in Diagon Alley when I went to get my school things, he helped show me and my aunt around the alley. Do you want to come?_

Draco looked a tad uncertain before he fixed a superior sneer on his face.

"Sure, why not. Someone's got to." He said mostly to himself. "What's the time now?" Harry cast a quick _Tempus_ that revealed the time in green glowing letters. Half past two. "Should we start heading down now then?"

Slinging cloaks on over their shoulders Draco and Harry left the Dungeons and headed out onto the grounds. It was quite cold and the boys hurried down the grassy slope close to the edge of the forest and coast of the lake where Hagrid's hut was placed. Harry knocked.

The door was opened almost immediately and Hagrid stood in front of the door, large and hairy with a beaming smile.

"'arry! Good ter see yer! Glad you could come, waited in just in case you would" his smile faded somewhat when he saw who Harry was next to. "And who's this then?"

"Draco. Draco Malfoy." Draco said proudly, he stood a little straighter and his chin tipped slightly.

Hagrid's smile became a little fixed. "A friend of yours 'arry?"

Harry nodded politely.

"Well then, yer best come in."

Hagrid's hut was one large room with pheasants and hams hanging from the ceiling, an enormous bed with a patchwork quilt in the corner; a fireplace was built along the right side with a copper kettle, pink umbrella and a large hairy coat hanging up beside it. To the left a large armchair sat with a long table and two stools beside it.

"Take a seat, I'll get some tea." Hagrid waved to the seats and picked up the kettle and placed it over the fire. "So," he said over his shoulder, "how do you like Hogwarts so far then?" when Harry didn't reply he slapped a large hand to his forehead. "Sorry 'arry, I forgot – but wait a sec – I've got something for yer." Hagrid moved over to the bed and stuck his hand underneath and when he pulled back there was a notepad and clear plastic packet in his hand. "It's not much but I thought it'd be more convenient than carryin' quill and ink 'round all the time." He handed the packet and notebook to Harry rather proudly, "went in ter Muggle London ter get it and then I asked Professor Flitwick ter charm it for yer. Never-endin' notebook and a few pens in case one of 'em runs out."

Harry took out a pen and flipped to the first page in the notepad.

_Thank you._

He showed the book to Hagrid who smiled.

"Tha's alright 'arry, just get better soon okay." He moved back over to sort out the tea.

Draco picked up a pen from the packet. "How do these things work then? Where's the ink?"

Harry showed Draco with his own pen and clicked the end making the nib disappear and then re-appear.

_The ink's inside the pen. You can't spill it and it's a lot easier to carry around. I should have thought of it sooner but the shops on Diagon Alley I went in didn't sell muggle things. Paper's a lot cheaper than parchment too._

Draco blinked owlishly. "Do you mind if I have a go?" Harry shook his head and pushed the pad over to Draco. He held the pen awkwardly in his hand and drew a small line, letting out a sound of surprise. "Wow. That's actually really easy." He looked at the pen in his hand in appreciation. "Father always said that nothing the muggles made was useful." He sounded confused. "He can't have known about these."

While they waited Harry taught Draco how to play noughts and crosses and they managed to play a few rounds before Hagrid had finished with the tea.

"Ther' we are boys! Drink up!" Hagrid placed two large mugs down in front of Harry and Draco while he drank from his own bucket sized mug. "So, how do you like Hogwarts so far then, Harry?"

_It's really good. I'm learning a lot._

Hagrid peered at Harry's script before leaning back, "Tha's good…and what about you then err young Malfoy."

Draco seemed uncertain and nervous around Hagrid. He'd been told that the Groundskeeper was a bit of a brute but apart from a little awkwardness and butchering the pronunciation of the English language Hagrid seemed friendly enough…but he didn't want to make him mad and crush him with those enormous hands so decided to be a bit more respectful. "It's okay, sir."

Hagrid cleared his throat awkwardly, "nah, nah, there'll be none o' tha'. Just call me Hagrid, everybody does."

"Err, thanks. You can call me Draco." He added nervously and seeing Hagrid smile made him relax a little more.

"Now, what's yer favourite subject, mine was always Care o' magical creatures—"

Things were much easier between the three from that point.

* * *

**AN - interesting stuff coming next chapter :D**

**Thanks to…**

**Frytrix**

**DarkRavie**

**Chibi blue mouse**

**Moriahhh**

**Magitech – **you definitely raise some valid points hopefully this chapter has cleared some of it up for you, thanks for your review J

**Serialkeller – **That would indeed be very amusing, we'll see what Nott does in the next chapter ;)

**Flying Dragonite – **I'm glad of that hehe

**Jj – **I'm not a big fan of bashing characters but sometimes it's good every now and then J It is very sad, they had noticed but it could have been interpreted as Harry's attitude and makes him seem as though he believes himself better than everyone else (explained in next chapter with Nott) and Pomona will be there too :D

**Siren Called ** - I'm so glad! I didn't want it to be so fast but so slow that everyone got bored and stopped reading, glad you think I've done it. Honestly you flatter me! :D Thank you for your review!

**XXtheOneAndOnlyXX14 – **Hope this was satisfying for you and I might put something further along the timeline about what happened for the Dursleys and Marge too J Thanks for reviewing!

**Guest ** - you are very close but there's a twist I can't wait to write! Thanks for the review I'm glad you like it!

**Arturhawkwing11 –** Thank you – you too!

**HiPotAndNews – **Oh gosh I'm sorry! It's very flattering to think that my writing could provoke such a reaction :O I'm sure I could fit a St Potter in there somewhere ;)

**Albionia – **Thank you very much!

**Fiferguy**

**RebeliousOne – **wow, thank you! This is probably the longest review I've ever received XD Thankyouthankyouthankyou! In Harry's current state he would not argue about the muggles at all since he hasn't met very many nice ones. I'll try and add some background detail about things like that when we get further in like the Christmas holidays and such maybe flesh it out a bit more from the perspective of the Purebloods when Draco explains things to Harry. All the four heads of house will play very important roles in the upcoming chapters and in Harry's life I just hope I can do them justice and the Slytherin's (which is next chapter too) stick to the "what happens in Slytherin stays in Slytherin" motto thing. I might try and get the Weasleys and a couple of other people from different houses in at some point to give it a bit of variety J Thanks again for your review!

**Rainbow185**

**Ibjw0128**

**BrightStar Kenobi –** sorry! Dumbledore has the honour of being in Petunia's presence. Thanks for the review!

**I'm astonished that so many of you have faved/followed/reviewed this chapter, it's amazing! Thank you for your lovely reviews, they really helped me to push this next chapter out J Hope everyone had a good Christmas/holidays and got some good presents (for the first time ever my family listened to me and got me books for christmas – A Casual Vacancy and the first book in Game of Thrones!) Happy New Year to everyone, looking forward to 2013!**


	6. Informing

**AN – this chapter was very hard to write which is why it wasn't up on Friday. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, faved and followed this story, I'm so happy that you like it. I've got lots more things to come for this story although it's more of a go with the flow type of story since I haven't got everything planned out…hope you like…**

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**Chapter 6 – Informing**

Harry's face revealed nothing of his inner thoughts but his eyes darted from the high beamed ceiling to a wide array of bottles filled with horrid liquids on a floating tray to his left. He waited with curiosity wondering what sort of tests Madam Pomfrey wanted to perform.

"If you could remove your robe for me please and then sit on the bed wearing this, Mr Potter that would be wonderful." The mediwitch said as she handed Harry a plain green hospital gown. "I'll be just outside if you need anything" she told him and walked briskly to stand on the other side of the privacy curtain. It was a Saturday afternoon and the Infirmary was empty, most of the students were either in their common rooms or exploring the castle, trying to shake off their boredom that had appeared when the heavy rain outside confined them all to the castle.

With quick movements Harry unbuttoned his robes to reveal a high collared white shirt and threadbare black trousers that hung above his ankles. Stripping off as he had been told Harry slipped on the hospital gown and began to fold his things and put them on the end of the bed, his wand placed carefully on top. Turning so his back pressed against the metal bed frame he used his skinny arms to haul himself up and onto the side. The sheets were cool and soft beneath Harry's small hands and when Madam Pomfrey came back through the curtain a few minutes later she found him waiting patiently, hands folded neatly in his lap.

"Alright then, are we ready?"

Madam Pomfrey had a long roll of parchment along with a quill and pot of ink floating beside her as she spoke. She nodded approvingly at him. "Very good, now, I'm going to do several tests. You may feel a slight tingling on your skin which means your magic is responding to the spell, but that's normal and nothing to worry about." Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a quick smile and brought out her wand to wave it over his head. "This spell will scan your magic, and look for any irregularities." She was muttering softly under her breath and slowly brought her wand to pass in front of his face, over his chest, down his legs to his feet, and then back up again. She seemed to stare at something hanging in the air before flicking her wand at the parchment where the quill began to write furiously over the paper, small puffs of smoke rising from the nib.

"Now, I'm going to check your eyesight. Glasses off if you please, Mr Potter." Harry removed his glasses and placed the wonky broken frames on top of his clothes. A dark look passed over Madam Pomfrey's face as she glanced at the cheap plastic frames held together by yellowed tape. It was gone when she looked back at Harry, but he was sure that he saw it, although he made no mention of it. "Now, you will feel some pressure from this spell but try not to blink or move too much, you get more accurate readings if you're still." Harry nodded and she drew two circles in the air with her wand, forming light circles of white smoke that shrank as they floated towards Harry and pressed on his emerald eyes. Through of their intense concentration they were vaguely aware that the quill had stopped writing "Keep still…" Madam Pomfrey warned when the spell was becoming more intense. There was some pressure when on the receiving end of the spell, not unbearable, but enough to make most people uncomfortable and blink.

She was surprised when he didn't move at all. Every time she'd performed the spell before, their eyelids had at least twitched. It seemed Harry liked to follow instructions to the 'T' which made the health check easier on both of them. She flicked her wand at the quill which began scribbling again.

"Now I'm going to scan your neck but you need to take the bandages off for me to do that—" before she'd even finished Harry had begun to unwrap the bandages around his neck revealing his puckered pink and white scars that stretched from ear to ear across the front of his throat, the skin bumpy and uneven. "Well…thank you. Remember it's going to tingle a bit because of your magic." She stood in front of him, lips pulled tight in concentration as she slowly drew her wand in front of his throat and then to each side. She flicked her wand every now and then at the parchment, or stared into space at something Harry couldn't see before she'd scan his neck again or gently touch the scars with the tip of her wand. Sometimes the scars burned hot, and other times cold when she pressed her wand to them, but throughout the tests Harry didn't make a sound or give any indication that he was feeling any discomfort. At the end of the scan she looked up and studied his face which was oddly blank. "I'm finished with your scan Mr Potter. I will be back in a moment to check over the last few things, you may put your clothes back on."

Poppy Pomfrey left through the privacy curtain taking her notes with her, a frown etched upon her face as she headed to her office.

"How was he?"

The headmaster's voice made her jump and she turned to see him standing by her desk wearing a sombre expression, rather different from the jovial one he wore normally. She huffed and plucked the parchment out of the air, sending the quill and ink back to their places on her desk.

"He didn't make a peep throughout the whole examination. No shifting, squinting, blinking or twiddling his thumbs. He did exactly what I asked him when I asked him and was as patient as a saint."

"That is good." Albus said patiently. His blue eyes were hesitant, "What is your verdict, Poppy?"

Poppy always thought it was better not to beat around the bush so held nothing back when she replied. "My verdict is that Harry needs immediate care and the monsters that did this to him sent to Azkaban." She said strongly.

Albus Dumbledore's eyes darkened, "They have been dealt with I assure you. Their future is going to be far worse than sending them to Azkaban." Pomfrey felt a brief flicker of fear before the Headmaster seemed to calm. "Now, tell me what he needs and I will see to it."

Holding the parchment in front of her Poppy rattled off the list of things that needed to be done. "The bones need resetting in his left arm, Bone Bolstering solution because they're very weak; he needs Nutrition potions and another variety to correct his vitamin and mineral deficiencies. Strengthening solution and a stabiliser for his magic but that should correct and repair itself if we get him on a good healthy diet…" The list went on and on until she finally finished red in the face as she shared her own opinions on the subject. Reading through the list had stoked her ire and her voice was raised – thank goodness her office had privacy wards. "…and Mr Potter is at a vital stage of development, he has years of neglect to make up for in body and magic – and goodness knows what impact this kind of abuse has had on his mind!" When she gained her breath back she noticed how old the headmaster seemed, looking all of his 110 years. "I believe checkups every other day for evaluations should help him along the way. It might be best if he is to remain in his dorm and continue with his lessons while he is recovering."

Albus nodded running a hand over his beard as he thought. "Thank you , Poppy. If you could make a list of all the potions Harry needs Severus will brew them." He opened the door, looking over his shoulder as he spoke "your assistance in this matter is appreciated, and keeping it quiet is, as you know, important too."

"Patient confidentiality has always been very important to me." She said stiffly, rolling the parchment and putting it into one of the many cubbyholes spread across her office wall. "I've got these to give to Mr Potter now, the rest I will make a list and give to Severus. I'll need his help in working out a potions regime that won't upset the boy's stomach. I suppose you want to speak with him?"

"Please, Poppy." He smiled kindly.

As she shut her office door, vials clasped in her other hand, she looked sternly at Albus. "I would appreciate it if you didn't sneak into my office every time you want to speak to me. A knock will do just as well."

"My apologies."

Poppy rolled her eyes when there was no mention about promising not to break in again.

"The headmaster just wants to talk to you for a moment once we're done here." Madam Pomfrey said as she stepped through the curtain Harry opened for her. "Back on the bed, there's just a few things left."

Harry did so, well aware that the Headmaster was watching from a transfigured chintz armchair in the corner. Madam Pomfrey checked his hearing and then sense of smell and taste before she asked to see his teeth. They were yellow and crooked and she tutted about how she would give him a diagram on how to clean his teeth with a spell. When she asked him whether he wanted them fixed Harry nodded, even though they never bothered him, he suspected they'd bother other people once he was able to talk again. Madam Pomfrey summoned a leaflet from her office and handed it to him. "All you have to do is use the charm once in the morning and once at night." Then she told him to open his mouth as wide as he could so she could perform the spell. "This will clean and straighten your teeth, but you should brace yourself it might hurt a bit." Clearing her throat she tapped her wand against his top two front teeth, and his top two bottom teeth. Nothing happened at first before a searing pain shot through his gums and he felt his teeth jolt into a new position in his mouth. The pain must have shown on his face because Madam Pomfrey then held out a red vial. "Drink this, it'll help." Harry took the vial and drank its contents without complaint and was thankful when his throbbing gums were soothed. "Now, the headmaster wants to speak with you a moment, I'll be in my office if you need me." She gave Harry a small smile before leaving once more.

"Good afternoon Mr Potter," Dumbledore said kindly when Harry turned his attention to him, "I'd like a chat with you if that's alright, good. First of all I'd like to explain a bit more on why you had an examination with Madam Pomfrey," seeing Harry nod, Dumbledore went on. "Not only is it to ensure that we know what to do for you potion wise, Madam Pomfrey's scan will allow us to see how your neck has healed and what we can do to help it. We have a few possible avenues that we could go down to heal your neck so far but we needed this information first before we can decide which one to try. I do believe we can find a solution and we should be able to start testing them next week." Dumbledore smiled at Harry before his face turned serious. "Now." The headmaster looked nervous and he ran a hand down his beard. "I want you to take a look at this and tell me what you think," he pulled out a sheet of paper from his pocket, folded neatly in two, and held it out. "You have your notepad and pen?" Harry took the paper slowly and nodded. Harry cautiously opened the paper and began to read.

The first few paragraphs were long, wordy and full of legal jargon Harry didn't understand. He glanced up at Dumbledore who gave him an encouraging nod and assuring twinkle over his half-moon spectacles. Harry scanned the page until he saw something that made his heart stop. Sputter. And then beat again a thousand times faster. He read it again just to make sure it was real, taking peaks over the top of the paper at the Headmaster to gauge his reaction and check it wasn't a joke.

It read…

_I _Petunia Dursley_ rescind all rights and claims over _Harry James Potter_ and pass them onto _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore…_who shall take up all roles and financial responsibilities…I will return all funding and finance I have received following this exchange of guardianship and pursue no further contact with _Harry James Potter_…_

There was a place at the bottom for Harry to sign and another box beside it which had already been signed by the headmaster. It was…surreal. He felt shocked that anyone would want him – especially the headmaster. He hadn't really contemplated the thought of going back to 4 Privet Drive, but thinking on it now, it made him shudder and he was sure that if they had tried to send him back there at the end of the year, he would have run away. Now he knew what it was like at Hogwarts he'd do anything to stay here. Setting the paper to one side he picked up his notepad and pen.

_Why_

The headmaster read the word with a grave expression. "I am sorry to say that your current condition is my fault. The way they treated you was atrocious Harry, I cannot apologise enough for what they did to you. When I first placed you with them I expected that being family, that Petunia being your mother's sister, would have loved and looked after you as one of her own. I never imagined how wrong I could be."

Harry didn't know what to write. What could he write?

_I accept your apology._

The headmaster smiled sadly, "It is commendable that you would say that and shines a good light upon your character; I appreciate it Harry, but I'm afraid that I must amend for my actions before I can feel any relief. The paper you have just read is an adoption form. I am your magical guardian in the wizarding world and this would make me your guardian in the muggle one too. At the end of term and during breaks when we are not required to be at the school you would live with me—" upon seeing Harry's wide eyed expression he hurried to assure him, "but you would not have to. I could, if you desired it, find another family with whom you could live comfortably with—"

_Why would you want me?_

The words were pressed deep into the paper and the headmaster felt his throat tighten with remorse.

"Why, Harry?"

Harry looked into the Headmaster's eyes and all he could think was that they were _so_ blue and filled with something Harry couldn't understand, and _why_ would the Headmaster want _him_ of all people—

"Because I have done everything wrong concerning you thus far, I want to make it right, I want to care for you and give you things you should have had a long time ago. A caring guardian whom you can come to for anything, a home where you can rest and feel safe, three good square meals a day and no exhausting foot long list of chores to complete before someone comes home." Everything he said was like a punch to the gut. "You won't have to do anything you don't want to if you stay with me – you would be safe, loved, and comfortable." Harry's hands were clenched tight around the edges of his notepad, his knuckles pressing tightly against the skin of his small hands. It was too much. There was something tightening around his chest and he felt his eyes start to sting like they used to whenever things got to be too much back at Privet Drive…

"Oh, my boy,"

Harry's shoulders were shaking and he heard the headmaster stand and move towards him, he swiped his hands at his eyes trying to remove the tears there but only managed to knock his glasses from his face. They fell to the floor and the lenses cracked; Harry made a move to pick them up but instead found himself being gently enfolded in a soothing embrace as the Headmaster hugged him. "It's alright my boy, it's alright, let it all out." The quiet comfort and soothing tones in the old wizards voice was enough to undo him.

He was wanted. Someone _cared_.

Harry's shoulders were shaking and before he could stop himself his fists had grabbed hold of the headmaster's robes and he was crying, sobbing, his mouth was open and his rasping breathing was far too loud in the quiet room. One hand was wrapped around his shoulders while the other had moved to gently smooth over his hair while Harry cried.

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Harry woke on a bed in the Infirmary feeling drained. With a wide yawn he slowly sat up and wiped away the crust that had accumulated around his eyes so he could see. He swung his legs to the side so they dangled over the side of the bed; he jumped slightly when he saw the headmaster sitting in his chintz armchair in the corner reading a magazine upside down. As if sensing Harry's gaze the headmaster looked up and smiled softly at Harry. "Are you alright now Harry?" Harry nodded, looking around for his notepad and pen. Seeing this, the Headmaster flicked his wrist and it sailed swiftly into Harry's waiting hands. "Sometimes it is better if we release our emotions rather than hold them in. Are you hungry?" Harry's stomach rumbled in answer and Dumbledore chuckled good-naturedly. "I'll send a house elf to bring you something up, when you're done Madam Pomfrey says you may leave, just make sure you tell her first – she's in her office."

_When would you like an answer, sir?_

"For the adoption? Whenever you feel ready Harry, there is no rush and my door will always be open to you whatever you decide." He smiled and called for Blippy who brought stew and bread rolls with a plate of chocolate cake and ice cream for dessert. Something left over from dinner Harry assumed. "But rest assured," he said when Harry lifted a spoonful of stew to his mouth, piping hot and delicious, "you will never have to go back to Surrey. Enjoy your meal, my boy." When he'd left through the privacy curtain Harry savoured his food, before Blippy appeared to take his plates away.

He had wondered what those creatures were, he'd heard the words house elf before, but didn't know whom they belonged to until now. They were quite odd looking creatures.

Picking up his things he made his way to Madam Pomfrey's office and told her (by note) that he was leaving with thanks for her time. It was late evening and there were very few people in the corridors. He walked slowly from the Infirmary and to the Slytherin common room thinking about the Headmaster's proposal. The adoption form had been tucked inside the back of his notepad which would let him read it over again and help him think later on.

"Where have you been all day? You weren't at dinner," Draco said almost as soon as Harry entered the common room.

_I had an appointment with Madam Pomfrey_

"Oh, do they know how to fix your throat yet?" Draco asked curiously.

_They've got some ideas already but the tests I had today will help them find out how to fix it._

There was no need for secrecy, Slytherin house knew that Harry couldn't talk because of an 'infection' in his throat and that Professor Snape and some of the other teachers were trying to find a solution. Upon finding out that Harry couldn't speak, Nott had backed off somewhat, but sometimes still muttered about how Harry could have tried to tell them by writing things down. This didn't really bother Harry because he had Draco, Goyle, and Pansy who was always hovering around, to listen and write notes to. Millicent kept to herself but was good at astronomy when they studied together. They were always happy to share things about the Wizarding World and any spells they'd been taught at home before coming to Hogwarts.

Despite the bad things Hagrid had said about Slytherin house when he had come to collect Harry for his first trip to Diagon Alley, Harry found that he felt at home in Slytherin. The older years were helpful when they were stuck with something – although help was usually bargained for – and they all had the benefit of being in the largest student rooms in the castle. It was nice not to be locked away in a cupboard and have people want to actually spend time with him.

"Well that's good, I'm sure Professor Snape will find the solution." Said Draco proudly, "Did I tell you he's my Godfather?"

_I think you might have mentioned it before._

About ten times at least.

"How about that rematch Potter?" Zabini called from a corner table and gestured to the empty place opposite him. Harry nodded and went over, Draco pulling up a chair beside him, and began to play. When the game ended, Zabini winning by one move, Crabbe and Goyle entered the common room arms laden with cakes and treats from the kitchens which they all dug into. In the short time he'd been at Hogwarts, he had grown very attached to the castle and his house mates. _I don't think I ever want to leave,_ he thought which later that night prompted him to think carefully over the Headmaster's proposition. Adoption. Like a father? Grandfather? Uncle?

Harry recalled the strange feeling that had appeared in his chest when Draco had defended him. Harry asked Draco why the Slytherin's were so protective of him when he walked around the castle and went to lessons.

After reading the note Draco had looked over at Harry from his bed with a serious expression. "In Slytherin," Draco had said, "we look after our own."

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**Thank you to…**

**The Amendable Snow Freak**

**CookiePuppy123**

**ZenaraTheDragon**

**Sparrowflyaway**

**Arturhawkwing11 – **Dumbledore didn't really curse her with magic, but Petunia's fear of magic is so strong that she would believe it and her own paranoia and fear would propel her to self-fulfill the 'curse' which was really just Dumbledore throwing the words around.

**Fhippogriff** – Don't worry, it won't be :)

**Frytrix – **Thanks for the advice I will be sure to do that, I tend to write a lot to relieve the stress of doing four subjects at college but I switch from one story to the other which keeps my writing inspiration flowing Glad you liked it!

**AJ Granger – **Thank you! I'm glad you like it – it's still a first draft but I'll be sure to check it out

**GeorgieGirl999**

**MeBeJustMe**

**Moriahhh**

**Flying Dragonite**

**Daughter of the Full Moon**

**Serialkeller**

**Ashtree22**

**Fiferguy – **a little evaluation will be in a later chapter of what happened to the Dursleys

**Lupinesence**

**DarkRavie**

**HiPotAndNews** – Thank you!

**Flying Chrissy**

**M149** – I'll see what I can do ;)

**I have a Tumblr where I upload sketches of Harry Potter, Avatar lok+Atla and anything else that takes my fancy, follow if you like **** ( just search fatynthemachine and you should find me for Tumblr :D ) I have a DeviantArt account too just search AspiringAuthor20**

**And thank you to everyone who has reviewed any of my stories, you guys keep me going and help shape the story – love you all!**


	7. Solution

**AN – Coursework deadlines are next week for me and I have a lot of it still to do/continue with. I was going to split this chapter into two with random snippets in but decided against it.**

**DOUBLE UPLOAD THIS WEEKEND! **

**Chapter 7 of To Heal (this) and Chapter 7 of Twist Of Fate! Very exciting stuff, really enjoyed writing that one!**

**Tumblr and Twitter and instagram is Fatynthemachine as always.**

**Hope you like!**

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**Chapter 7 – Solution **

The days raced by, Harry becoming more comfortable in Slytherin house as he learnt the rules and unspoken customs with the guidance of Draco Malfoy (don't make acusations you can't back up. If you can't protect your things you don't deserve them. Respect is earned not given etc). He was ingesting at least eight potions a day, with meals, before bed, some every other day and then one or two weekly which he had to take in the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey did scans with her wand. Thankfully neither Draco, nor any of the other Slytherins, questioned this as Harry was gaining weight, looking and feeling healthier every day that went by.

Sadly, in spite of all this, he had become no less interesting to the students now than when he had started Hogwarts. Questions were always asked about the 'mysterious' Harry Potter and he was often a topic of conversation. Draco distracted him well with studying and games but it was impossible to block everything out.

_What's he taking all those potions for? _

_I don't think he'd need that many for an infection in his throat! Do you think he's got an addiction?_

_Maybe he's a tester, does potion trials or something…_

_He looks healthier don't you think?_

_Potter's still a bag of bones though…_

_Have you ever actually heard him speak?_

_No, might be embarrassed about how squeaky it is and trying to cover it up with an _infection…

_He never smiles, do you think he's dark?_

_Must be if he's in Slytherin house. Best to stay away from him my mum thinks…_

The questions and whispers made no difference to Harry and rolled off him like water from a duck's back. They were annoying at worst but Slytherin was good at projecting an icy, emotionless façade and protecting those who belonged there. Harry had never really fit in anywhere, but here he felt at home, safe within the protection of the dungeons.

The matter of fixing his throat was something that was moving along nicely. His problem was being worked on tirelessly by both Professor Snape and the Headmaster.

Harry had been to several tests already as he was often called by Professor Snape to his office for assessments and tests. Professor Snape took samples of spit, a little bit of blood and nail clippings to drop in potions and give them to Harry for him to drink. The headmaster would sometimes sit on these meetings asking Harry questions completely unrelated to try and keep his mind off the horrid taste of the potions. Well, this was what he'd thought at first. After these meetings there were usually subtle changes in and around the school that Harry knew were brought about by his conversations via notepad with the Headmaster. The most noticeable change was at meals. A wider variety of food was available including Chinese, American, Mexican, French and Italian foods which Harry found delicious and educational after revealing to Dumbledore that he'd never had any of the foods they had talked about.

Also, despite grumblings about the groundskeeper, Harry and Draco continued to visit Hagrid and enjoyed taking tea with him.

"He's actually not so bad." Draco had said when Pansy asked why they associated with someone like _that_.

Her mouth had hung open and everyone had stared at Draco as though he'd grown a second head. A tickle in Harry's throat and small twitch of his lips felt strange as he smiled, finding the situation very amusing.

"Oh do shut your mouth Parkinson, you look common." Draco said pompously, his cheeks stained pink with all the attention he was receiving. "Let's just get to charms" he snatched up his bag and dragged Harry from the common room.

Harry partnered with Draco as usual when the bell rang and Professor Flitwick announced they would be matching the incantation with the wand movement of the spell "Winguardium Leviosa".

As usual Harry was the first one to perform the spell correctly, earning five for being the first one to do so, and to do it silently as he did with his other spells.

"It's not as if he can speak the spell out loud" Ron Weasley said angrily from across the room, he was staring at his feather sulkily rather than attempting to actually complete the spell with his battered wand. Hermione Granger, the girl who Weasley had been unlucky enough to be paired with (or lucky if you enjoyed being shown up) was also frowning, although hers was in concentration rather than self pity and jealousy.

"Look," Draco said, smirking. Granger's face was slowly reddening. Her attempt to cast the spell silently was amusing as she only managed to turn very red.

"Well done Mr Longbottom, five points to Gryffindor!" The excited squeak of Professor Flitwick made everyone look up.

Draco smothered his laugh behind his hand as Granger whipped her bushy head around to look furiously at a blushing Neville Longbottom. He too was bright red in the face, looking stunned as his feather slowly floated back down to rest on his desk.

"Honestly Professor, I don't know how I did it—" he sputtered.

The tiny professor, standing on a floating stack of books, patted Neville's desk and smiled at the shy boy, "But you still did it Mr Longbottom, now try again and see if you can replicate your efforts." Professor Flitwick left Neville and went to see to the other students.

"Just look at Granger – she looks like she's going to explode!" he pointed out gleefully as Neville waved his wand again and the feather rose shakily before sinking back down onto the desk. Longbottom was looking on in startled disbelief as he did it again, the feather rising higher with each attempt until it levitated with only a slight wobble.

Hermione Granger, first year swot, had become very competitive in her attempts to outperform Harry in the lessons they shared together. She'd never spoken to him ("or anyone else – she's practically friendless!" Draco had pointed out) but seemed to hold a strong dislike for his academic prowess, which, Harry thought to himself, was nothing more than following instructions. That, and his silent casting, really seemed to get her wand in a knot. So, in her haste to be the first to silently cast the levitation spell, she had forgone the attempt to cast the spell aloud and failed miserably, allowing someone else to earn the points for first caster in Gryffindor and oust her spot from first spell caster for Charms in Gryffindor. Not that Harry thought the Lions cared much for academic posturing. That was more likely to be the Ravenclaw's division.

For the rest of the lesson Harry and Draco helped the other Slytherins who were having difficulty, cast the spell correctly; adjusting their grips and helping with the pronunciation earned Slytherin another ten points.

At the end of the lesson when Harry and Draco were leaving, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind them, they turned the corner only to bump into Professor Quirrell.

"O-oh s-sorry boys." Professor Quirrell stuttered, one hand desperately clutching his turban while the other grasped at his robes over his heart. "L-look where you're g-going now." He hurried off with a wavering watery smile fixed to his pale face.

"Pathetic," Draco said. "You'd think that Dumbledore would at least find us someone competent for DADA."

_At least he's got the theory right. Want to go see Hagrid before dinner?_

Draco shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "I need to pick up a book from the library first but then I suppose…If we must..."

Harry rolled his eyes and carried onto their next class, enjoying the rest of the afternoon and looking forward to visiting Hagrid before the Halloween feast – which was sure to be brilliant if the smells coming from the kitchen were anything to go by.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sat by the bay window in Albus' office, stunned as she listened to him rant. He'd been striding strongly in front of the fireplace, hair and robes flapping behind him as he paced like a caged animal. She'd never seen him look so agitated in all the years she'd known him.

Albus threw his hands in the air and turned to face her, stopping for the first time in five minutes to stand still. "And then they said _No, you have too many duties already, taking care of a child – Harry Potter no less! – is out of the question._ It's as if they think I'm going to adopt Harry and leave him in the care of house elves – which is what they did to their children! Bloody hypocrites!" he growled and swept over to the bookshelves pulling out a thick tomb. "It says _here_ that I can have custody of a child as the headmaster of Hogwarts, should it not impede on any of my duties. You know it won't Minerva – they know it won't! They just don't want me to have him –" he dropped the book onto his desk and moved over to Fawkes perch. The phoenix lifted its head and blinked slowly at the headmaster, it trilled a soft song to calm him down. "But what was worst of all Minerva – Malfoy actually suggested that I _drop_ one of my duties and let someone else take over!"

Minerva had remained silent throughout his rant, but now, she spoke. "Albus, I cannot help but agree."

"What?" he frowned, turning away from Fawkes who let out a chirp of agitation, Albus caught the stern gaze of his deputy and Fawkes clicked his beak in a temper, Albus had just been about to scratch his favourite spot under his chin!

"I'm not saying you need to drop something, although honestly Albus, you do too much –"

"I cannot believe you think me incapable of looking after Harry and this school!"

"We both know you do far more than that Albus but that was not what I was talking about." She said sternly.

"What was it then?" he asked impatiently.

Minerva eyed him over the tops of her glasses. "What I was going to say is that while the Wizamagot does not think you would be capable of looking after Harry completely with all your current duties – don't interrupt!" his mouth closed with a snap. "This does not mean you cannot look after him alone." Understanding dawned and his eyes twinkled brightly.

"Minerva you are a saint!"

She smirked lightly. "I'm a Roman Goddess actually." She folded her arms over her chest and relaxed back into the cushions of the bay window-seat. "Now, they may raise more objections to this saying that _I_ have too many responsibilities too which is why we will involve Filius, Pomona and Severus should they be agreeable." Albus looked at her with a wide smile. "While we stay at Hogwarts for the most part we all own our own homes and have years of experience in looking after children. Together I believe we can provide for Mr Potter admirably. They may raise some nonsense about us passing him around and not having a stable environment but that's a load of tosh and they'll drop that line of questioning soon enough if they have any sense." She stood and moved over to the fireplace, "I will call the others, I'm sure they will agree."

Albus had never been happier to have known Minerva McGonagall as a colleague or a friend. "You are a marvel," he smiled.

Minerva's cheeks gained a pink tint at the praise, "thank you, well, we'll work this out Albus, don't worry – Filius Flitwick's Quarters!"

* * *

"The Headmaster's going to adopt you?" Draco asked aghast as they travelled across the grounds to Hagrid's hut for a visit, book in hand. Classes, homework and Hagrid's duties didn't give them much time to visit, but Harry made sure that he would visit at least once a week. He'd been a number of times now, and Draco always tagged along – for Harry's safety of course. "Are you going to let him?"

Harry stared pensively ahead of him before nodding slowly.

_Yes, I think I will_.

"Wow." Draco breathed, stunned as they approached the groundskeepers hut "That's…great." Draco didn't need to ask why Harry was going to be adopted by the Headmaster or why he didn't like his previous guardians enough to stay with them. Slytherin's didn't need to ask stupid questions, they could figure out obvious answers for themselves. He knocked on the heavy wooden door. "I hope he hasn't made rock cakes this time." Draco murmured grouchily. "They need to soak in my tea at least five minutes before they're remotely edible and I don't want to spoil my appetite for the feast." Harry smirked at Draco who frowned and huffed. "It's rude to refuse."

There was a thump from the inside and the door swung open to reveal a smiling Hagrid wearing a ruffled apron over his usual shirts and hairy overcoat. "Hello boys," he said, small black eyes smiling at them through his mass of tangled black hair. "Come in, come in…"

Draco and Harry moved to sit in their usual places on the bench across the back wall while Hagrid fixed them tea. The relationship between Draco and Hagrid had developed with an easy atmosphere once Draco expressed his fondness for dragons. "Draco means dragon, you know. I don't think mother and father could have chosen a better name for me." He said with pride, listening raptly when Hagrid started talking about the different types and how much he would _love_ a dragon. "Shame it's illegal to own one." Draco groused, "I'd want one at the manor although I doubt mother would let me."

"Too right," Hagrid said, "very dangerous – misunderstood creatures of course – but dangerous all the same. They need lots of room and plenty of carin' for. Some of 'em can get right nasty if they aint treated righ'…" he trailed off eyes staring longingly into the distance.

Their conversation went on but Harry wasn't paying attention, he could have sworn he saw something move underneath Hagrid's bed. Merlin knows what he kept under there if he wanted a dragon!

After a while silence descended. "Are yer alright Harry?" Hagrid asked.

Brought out of his concentration for a moment he nodded distractedly and tried to pay more attention to the conversation. He tried to listen, he really did, but there was something under the bed and he needed to know what it was. The hair on the back of his neck rose and his skin prickled unpleasantly as he stared. Hagrid's bed was mostly covered with furs and patchwork blankets, but every so often the covers hanging down would shift as though something was moving.

_There!_

Harry stood quickly, pushing away from the table and walking backwards towards the door. His face was pale, hands clenched tightly around his wand that shot dark blue sparks while his green eyes were wide behind his glasses, refusing to remove their focus from the huge grey beast that was making its way out from under the bed.

"Harry?" Draco asked cautiously when he saw his friend move. Harry didn't seem to hear him.

"What's wrong 'arry?" Hagrid followed Harry's terrified gaze over to the beast. "Fang – get back – no, stay over there!"

Saliva dripped from its jaws and Harry felt fear encase his chest in an icy cold grip, convinced it was thinking about finishing off the job that Ripper had started.

Hagrid was waving his hands at the thing, trying to get it to go back out of sight, his words were a blur and he couldn't hear what was being said. Harry wanted to call out – tell Hagrid that it wasn't safe to be near such a thing!

Draco who had crept closer to Harry, hands out passively in front of him when suddenly he found Harry's wand pointed between his eyes. He met the terrified gaze of his friend, pale and scared.

Fang managed to slip through Hagrid's grasp, eager to greet the visitors.

Harry let out a garbled whine from his damaged throat and shot out the door.

"Potter! POTTER! HARRY – NO, COME BACK!" Draco shouted, running out after him, vaguely aware of Fang bounding after him wagging his tail and barking loudly.

In the end it didn't matter how much Draco yelled and called, Harry carried on running, too fast for him to catch, running blindly into the forbidden forest.

* * *

**And now I feel cruel...**

**Thanks to….**

**Dancer4813**

**The Magnetic Witch**

**Kairan1979**

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**Mizzarazz72**

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**DarkRavie**

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**The next chapter of TWIST OF FATE will be up TOMORROW! :D **

**Thank you everyone for sticking with me! Peace out!**


	8. Lost and Alone

**AN – **To Heal has been a loooong time in coming and since the last update I've found out that I'm no good with a 'go with the flow' plot and so, To Heal will be** on hold until I've figured out the plan**. I've got a plan written down for Twist Of Fate and Missing Magic all of which the next chapter of each is halfway done.

**Tumblr and Twitter is Fatynthemachine as always.**

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Lost and Alone**

"You agree then?"

"Of course!" Flitwick nodded.

Pomona clasped her hands in her lap, "It's heartbreaking what's happened to him, poor dear, he needs support now. I'll be there for him." She promised.

Albus, Minerva, Fillius and Pomona all turned to Severus Snape at the end of the row sitting stiffly in the high backed chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"I don't think it wise if I was involved as anything other than his head of house. It would be _improper_." He told them slowly.

"Severus…"

He folded his arms over his chest and eyed the headmaster sternly. "You said yourself Albus that the Dark Lord isn't dead, I do not like to tempt fate by accepting the joint role as guardian of the boy and then receive punishment afterwards from _him_ when he asks why I have let Potter live. That and my _history_."

"Surely you can see that it would be beneficial for Mr Potter to have someone closer to his own age" Flitwick reasoned his short legs swinging freely above the floor on his chair. "After all, you are the same age his parents would have been should they…well, you know. Peace be with them."

Before Severus could so much as sneer the door was flung open and smacked against the wall with enough force to leave a crack in the stone.

"Headmaster! Harry's gone!" Draco Malfoy gasped as he entered the room upon the heels of Hagrid. His blonde hair wild, eyes wide with worry. He started talking at a rate they could barely understand, but they got the gist of it, the most important ones were "He…dog…forest" and sent their stomachs dropping to their shoes.

"Professer Quirrell's out lookin' fer him now sir!" Hagrid boomed over the young Slytherin as they leapt to their feet and rushed to the door.

_Merlin, they'll both be killed if they go in there!_ Severus panicked. Severus almost ran down the spiral staircase while Minerva and Albus hurried out after him, calling out things to Draco and Hagrid as they went. Pomona and Fillius stayed behind to look after the school while they went to find their missing student.

"Return to your common room Draco!" demanded Severus, hearing a hurried 'Yes sir!' as he raced down the hall.

"Your assistance Rubeus would be advantageous in the search for Mr Potter!" Albus called behind him while Fillius and Pomona sent their patronuses to the remaining professor's in the school to inform them about the search.

"We'll spread out." Minerva said, wand clasped in her hand, hurrying down the stairs and along corridors to the entrance hall, "we can find Harry much faster that way."

* * *

His heart was beating loudly in his ears, breath coming too fast from his lungs and legs stumbling over fallen branches and thick vines that reached out to snatch at his ankles.

_Away, away, must get away. _

The barks of the dog rang sharply in his head and adrenaline and instinct forced him to keep going. His thoughts were clipped into a single line of continuous thought.

_Get to safety. Run. Keep running._

The forest seemed to have stilled, sinking into silence, the only sound was of the boy's rattling breaths and the snapping of branches as he ran as fast as he could, deeper and deeper into the forest. Then, something caught the back of his robes, they were yanked roughly against his bandaged throat and he toppled back, attempting to stand, only to have his legs trapped and snatched from the ground as he swung helplessly in the grip of his attacker.

Before his glasses fell to the ground all he could see was the large hairy underbelly of what looked to be an enormous spider.

* * *

_The boy, find the boy!_

"I will master, I promise." Quirrell whispered without even a hint of a stutter. His footsteps were dampened by the dark moss and leaves that covered the floor; he looked more aware and capable now than he had in any of his classes as his eyes shifted about his surroundings. Of course, his students would think it was a completely different person, but in fact it was all an act and Quinirus Quirrell was more than any of them ever suspected. Most of them thought he was a wimp, unable to cast a spell because of his stammer, but they couldn't have been further from the truth. He was capable, intelligent, cast his spells with dexterity _and_ he had the power and knowledge of the Dark Lord on his side. Now all he had to do would be to find the boy and then his master would tell him what to do next.

It was easy to see in what direction Potter had gone, broken branches and imprints on the mud from his school shoes led in a clear trail deep into the forest. All he had to do was follow the path Potter had left in his wake.

Well, it was until the boy had seemed to slip – the earth had been scraped, eight thin lines scraped back as though he'd dug his nails in to stop from being dragged away…but away by what? The boy could even be dead by now. A flash of pain through the back of his neck from his master made him hurry. He cast a targeting spell and followed the pull from his wand, he had to duck and jump over several fallen trees and rotting stumps on the way but his heart stuttered when he saw the scene before him.

Hundreds of Acromantula at all stages in development were clustered around a wriggling sack made of web. They were getting ready to eat him. Damn. Acromantula venom was very poisonous, expensive because of how dangerous they were, and very fast working. If Potter was bitten, he'd be dead before they could get back to Hogwarts. He would have had no hope of outrunning or killing a fair portion if he didn't have his master to guide him.

Gathering his magic, severing and bludgeoning curses shot from Quirrell's wand in an almost continuous stream, slaying many of the nearest ones and distracting them from Potter who was presumably inside the wriggling cocoon. A cutting curse sliced open the webbing and an Accio summoned the traumatised boy to Quirrell's side, remainders of the cocoon stuck their robes together like glue as he slashed his wand left and right, slicing a path through the hoards of spiders that clicked furiously spitting venom and raising their front legs in anger, getting ready to attack.

Harry stuck to Quirrell's side, too shocked other than to do as he was told and simply be dragged along. They managed to make it out of the nest and a short way into the forest when Quirrell cried out in pain. Great globs of venom were shot from the spider behind and eating through his robes, severing the web that stuck Quirrell and Harry together. Harry stumbled to the side, falling against a tree as he watched his professor battle the spider.

_He's not stuttering_ Harry thought blearily as the spider reared up and Quirrell tripped over the end of his tattered robe, struggling to retain his balance. The spiders rushed forward, surrounding the professor until Harry could no longer see him.

A Flash of light – severed legs – rolling heads – popped eyeballs – the sticky green ichor of Acromantula blood sprayed outwards. Screeching – his professors yells – and finally Harry was able to see him.

He stood, face fierce and more determined and stronger than Harry had ever seen him, his arm thrust upwards and with a roar the spell engulfed the remaining spiders surrounding him and they burst into black flames, silver sparks snapping from the ashes that remained.

Quirrell turned his head, looking until his eyes finally came to rest on Harry, but the turban was gone and Harry had seen what no one was meant to see.

It had slipped from Quirrell's bald head during the fight and lay, unravelled by the carcass of a smoking Acromantula.

Harry daren't breathe. For the brief moment he had made eye-contact with the red eyes on Professor Quirrell's face – but it wasn't his face – it was something else – something unnatural. Harry backed away from Professor Quirrell, his body tense as he got ready to run. His day was just getting worse.

"Stop." The voice hissed and Harry did, unable to resist. "Don't—"

"Let…me speak…to the boy" the same high, cold voice hissed, and Harry knew it wasn't professor Quirrell who spoke.

Quirrell turned around to look at Harry, "Master you are too weak—"

Quirrell's body stiffened before collapsed onto his hands and knees, gasping and trembling.

"I. Am. Not. Weak." The voice hissed angrily.

"For-forgive m-me Master—" for once, the stutter was real and he struggled to his feet, eyes unfocused, swaying slightly.

"Turn! Let me speak…to him." Harry still hadn't moved his feet were frozen to the ground. The adrenaline that had coursed through his veins had faded, leaving him feeling weak and shaky. As Quirrell turned away red eyes met green and Harry felt a fuzzy memory tickle the back of his mind…red eyes and a flash of green. "Do you know who I am? I know who you are, Harry Potter. I know a great many things, and I can help you." The red eyes were bright in the semi-darkness of the Forbidden Forest and the skin was pale, almost translucent. "Come with me now and all your problems will disappear." The thin, slitted nostrils flared when Harry made no move towards him. "Come here boy!"

_Boy! Wash the dishes and don't even think about sneaking any leftovers – those are to be scraped into the bin…I don't want any _funny _business now…boy you'll do as you're told!_

Harry shook his head slowly and took a step back, his heel snapping a twig behind him. _Keep your eye on the enemy. Watch him._ He took another step and another before he noticed the red eyes widening. Quirrell turned and sent a spell whizzing over Harry's head, a screech and thick green ichor sloshed down onto his robes, covering him in the gelatinous goo that was Acromantula blood. For a moment, Harry wished he was blind instead of mute. His scream would have been able to reach the castle. A spider, using the other's as a distraction leapt at Quirrell. It was over in a flash, but just long enough for Harry to see Quirrell's look of surprise and the high, cold voice scream "Ibecile!" before the spider's mouth swallowed Quirrell's head and _bit_.

The headless body fell to its knees before slumping forward to the floor. A thick grey mist seeped from the wound along with the blood sliding insidiously along the floor.

_But the blood, oh the blood._

He turned and ran as fast as he could, missing the arrows that soared through the air and pierced the eyes of the large spider hunching over the body of his dead professor. Harry's hands were clenched into fists, white knuckles straining against his skin, stumbling as he saw the forest through blurred eyes, unable to push away the image of Professor Quirrell's head being eaten and his headless body being overrun by thousands of smaller spiders. He could only imagine—he felt sick fill his mouth, burning a path from his stomach to his throat and spilled from his mouth, unable to stop for the luxury of directing the vomit into the shrubbery rather than onto his robes.

Having lost his glasses some time ago Harry was almost blind with fear when he slammed into something hard and was forced to the side, the world faded to nothing.

He was in strong pale arms…long white hair…the footsteps sounded more like hooves…it was bright and warm and there were voices all around him. Where was he? There was a breeze and – beards! Dumbledore's blue eyes and glasses…a potion best to swallow that before I choke to death…the voices were distant again and he felt himself fall into the soothing waves of sleep.

* * *

"I don't believe we've ever lost a defence professor so early in the year." Dumbledore sighed looking over the sleeping form of Harry Potter. Madam Pomfrey had commented sadly that he seemed to be a regular in the infirmary and said they could have a bed with his name on it. Dumbledore hoped that it wouldn't have to be the case. "The body cannot be recovered of course, due to the Acromantulas rather quick con—"

"I think that's enough, Albus" Minerva interrupted looking queasy, patting down the hairs that had come loose in their frenzied search for Harry Potter. "It was brave, but foolish, for Quinirus to go in after him."

"If the centaurs hadn't been to see what was happening I doubt the boy would have survived at all." Severus said grimly. "We were lucky Hagrid found the Centuars in time to alert them to the situation."

"It was good of them to assist us." Minerva agreed.

"The centaurs need to do more than look for lost students," Severus grumbled as he gently applied disinfectant to the scratches that littered Harry's face and hands, "A complete extermination would be advisable headmaster since they are _not_ in fact a native species to Scotland."

Dumbledore ran a hand through his long white beard and hummed thoughtfully. "A cull would be preferable to complete extermination I had hoped to get Hagrid to liaise with them for venom to add to your stores but I will have a word with the Centuars to see what they can do. In the meantime I believe I have found something that will fix Mr Potter's voice."

* * *

**Thank you to….**

**Patronus-Charm54093**

**Serialkeller – **Harry did the charm for Neville to amuse Draco who doesn't like Hermione haha!

**Dancer4813 – **Harry's fear of dogs will stop him from liking _any_ dogs but he might like them in the future. I have a Labrador crossed with a springer spaniel, and he's so lovely you can sit him on your lap (despite him being quite a big dog) with his paws in the air and sit with him watching tv. Glad you liked it!

**Mworth1019**

**Flying Dragonite**- That's because you are special! :D I try to respond to all the reviews that are left on each chapter :D Weekends are always the best!

**B00kw0rm92 **

**DarkRavie**

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**GeorgieGirl999**

**Kairan1979 –** He'd probably collapse! Especially since Fluffy is really protective over the hatch!

**Anarion87**

**Atymer – **He's going to be even more terrorised because of the spiders now! Sometimes I feel awful for putting Harry through these situations! It'll probably take a while – on top of everything else – to heal him. No need to say sorry, everyone's entitled to their opinion and I like reading how different people interpret what I write :)

**Beckabecky**

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**Thank you everyone for sticking with me! Peace out!**


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